All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
Live it. . . Love it. . . Kill for it
Friday, November 20, 2009
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2 comments:
That may be true--but that is one damn awesome simple verse my wrinkly friend.
Who's wrinkled?!
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