Stunning and nice, without a heart filled of ice How can one talk to me and smile; It has an empty meaning After all, she’s just a pretty little thing Not afraid to spread her wings If she flys to far Things might end up dire When will my pulsating heart mend, when it all comes to an end?
Stunning and nice,
without a heart filled of ice
How can one talk to me 
and smile; 
It has an empty meaning
After all, 
she’s just a pretty little thing
Not afraid to spread her wings
If she flys to far 
Things might end up dire
When will my pulsating... poetry stories
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butterflie
butterflie Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
That girl

Stunning and nice, without a heart filled of ice How can one talk to me and smile; It has an empty meaning After all, she’s just a pretty little thing Not afraid to spread her wings If she flys to far Things might end up dire When will my pulsating heart mend, when it all comes to an end?

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