The serenades of morning birds
Makes me regret scathing words.
The past will always be;
The future we'll never see.
But the present has a beauty
Not marred by depressional sooty.
Dec 6, 2021
Dec 6, 2021 at 10:11 PM UTC
The serenades of morning birds
Makes me regret scathing words.
The past will always be;
The future we'll never see.
But the present has a beauty
Not marred by depressional sooty.
