Jan 2015
I write and I write
Until my pen has run dry
My hands are cramped
I'm too tired to cry
I don't care if I'm judged
Writing is my only love
Giving birth every day
For me it is the only way
Until my pen has run dry
My hands are cramped
I'm too tired to cry
I don't care if I'm judged
Writing is my only love
Giving birth every day
For me it is the only way
