The colour of hair it does still my aching heart It does believe me
Is It The Hair That makes you stare at me upon the stairs? Is it the elbow that I give you in the side forcing you to suck in a breath that makes fools of us both? Would you care if there was more hair? Does the violence matter anymore? I can see you bleedingContinue reading “Is It The Hair?”
Hair Fine hair growing slow, inch by inch, day by day grows When will I see you?