= I hear this poem | Corina Gina Papouis [17.Sep.09 19:09] |
like this: I feel your lips Walking on tear marks You worship me too soon So as to kill me And too late Because My dream is made of fears Your song of forbiden feelings That vergers pour slowly into my ear To be kept ..hope you don't mind! Cheers, Corina | |
= you're wright | Iustina Daniela Cucu [19.Sep.09 00:32] |
My dear Corina you are wright. I'll change the poem. | |