Love me, love me not.
Pick me, pick me not.
Break me, break me not.
It's always a little too late.
is this what they call it fate?
Sunday, March 7, 2010
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Datos personales
- AmiE
- Handicrats whose craftsman excelled,so they too excelled And seedlings, whose planter was pleasing,they will become pleasing too, We were like arrows when they hit their targets So too the archer who let them fly.
1 comments:
Always love you...
Always pick you...
Break you...opt to not to...
Love,
Kak Mila
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