The sun is now behind trees
and the trees hide behind the powerlines.
My tree, small as it might be still blooms each spring.
I have only ghost who listen to my shoulder pain,
men dont cry but purchase graves.
Feb 5, 2020
Feb 5, 2020 at 1:23 PM UTC
The sun is now behind trees
and the trees hide behind the powerlines.
My tree, small as it might be still blooms each spring.
I have only ghost who listen to my shoulder pain,
men dont cry but purchase graves.
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