What a life you must have,
Being little Ms. Perfect.
Always getting what you want,
Is something so decieving.
It's like taking a piece of paper,
And ripping it to pieces,
For a reason so small,
Because of it's 'appearance.
As you told me before,
It's hard to pick a friend.
Watching you let me down,
Was enough to take in.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.