You don't have to smile boy
He has the girls
You have nothing
But you want it badly.
Imperfection kills.
Misunderstood
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.
Fifty eight
You don't have to smile boy
He has the girls
You have nothing
But you want it badly.
Imperfection kills.
Misunderstood