He's not cold,
He's just cautious,
Being careful,
Being awkward.
When there's no one aorund us.
I'm not hot,
I'm not pretty,
But I'd listen,
If he'd let me,
But he won't, he won't.
And he's so sweet behind the doors,
And he's so cool when we're messing around on kitchen floors,
And then we're back at school and he's so different,
And there's nothing I can do about it.
He's not mean,
He's insecure,
And his mom doesn't like me,
Mine doesn't like him,
Messed up much?
It is.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Crying Skies, Rain And Discarded Memories
कविताmidnight silk flows from her head and a stormy sea lies in her eyes magic flows every time she speaks a crimson silence dancing across her lips
