jueves, 3 de febrero de 2011

February sometimes is the longest month

My mother taught me no to be evil
Now she is dead 
My whole neighborhood heard me cry
But no one knocked my door
To be empty is never easy
To be full of crap is not better
It’s true I’m cold as ice
It’s true I’m hard as rocks
But sometimes I need to be hugged
Just to carry on walking


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