every tail desires a writer, every web requires a spider, with every ship there's an anchor but I'm just a Pisces raining within the tropics of cancer,my feeling's were tampered now in my soul is anger,I'm trying to sing along with rumors that I'm just a late bloomer,I admit I was never a good listener after all love didn't see me as an "enlister" the life of headphones were my injury singing out loud if you let me, am I who I say I am or will you let me be whoever I want to be...
©undecided
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