IRC-Galleria

Snow is falling from the sky slowly
And when thinking of you, I breath only hardly
You're the shine of my life
Hoping to be your wife

Not yet ready to excuse
What would you like to choose
This is not game
Espescially safe

Trying to talk
But then I just away walk
That's not literly, what I do
But I can see, you're blushing too

This is not a poetry with meaning
It's only thoughts of mine - which are screaming
To get free
Up to the mountain, up to the tree
When they finally get free