He built walls so high
You couldn't climb.
Yet you judge them all
When you gave up on climbing those walls.
YOU ARE READING
Misunderstood
PoetryYou could hear it all... The sweet rhythm she made with her violin The banging of the stick to the drums The sound that came were hiccups and screams What happened to them.
Thirty two
He built walls so high
You couldn't climb.
Yet you judge them all
When you gave up on climbing those walls.
