Soapsuede
Sunday, 1 November 2020
Morning song
Well then morning dearest
What have you got for me?
Except a horrid breakfast and the pitter patter of rain that I can only hear and not see.
Will I turn into one of those inmates who scratch days on walls?
I hope not.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment