• popcy_ 5w


    The troubles and storms got me beached out
    Thrown out of love, STRANDED
    Lost, wounded, EMPTY-HANDED
    A loser of love, a tittle I was BRANDED
    I held a tight grip, bottled every moment, with some seconds taken for GRANTED
    It was bright and shiny but the blessings were LEFT-HANDED
    I thought I was safe until I CRASH LANDED
    The search continues, the struggle never ENDED