Nothing to do

A dented car, the front as a pug, not planned as that, like life. And we criticize the fate for being, criticize the sun for heating, walk alone in desolate winter and ask for a warm hand to help guide. Nothing to do. Nothing to do. Cant change it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: