it's the euphoria of this descent, and i'm running for the touchdown.
but i'm stuck in slow-motion, my boy is cold, drunk, and drugged...
i'm prying for pretend memories, and i'm tied in a line, which makes me the bait...
to be the bait means to be broken.to be broken means to be shallow, but not desperate.
their mentality lacks efficiency, and no one is safe from abuse..
even the love...Specially the love.
i'm the bait...just the bait, and i'm waiting for the prey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
work on your form, the layout of the words. this is excellent.