She trust him quiet enough
But
He trust her in a finger tip
YOU ARE READING
WORDS OF THE INNOCENT
PoetryHere are some collections of my inner voice, Bottled and buried deep down in the depth of my heart, Scribbled down on a piece of paper. . . . She sighs,and look through the window, Waiting for the sun to shine, So she could hide in the world of book...
crushed
She trust him quiet enough
But
He trust her in a finger tip