My heart, You are like dead seasons, Like the unseen good sides of something, But the season is over, There is no other passenger for you, You seem not to notice.
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My heart, You are like dead seasons, Like the unseen good sides of something, But the season is over, There is no other passenger for you, You seem not to notice.
Log in to join in Reading is open to everyone. Replying needs an account.
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