DrummerboyHe sits on his bed, examining his scars Each one raised, once deep, with a story of its own And then whats hidden inside-a circle, square, a tangled curve Confusion, emotional scars, keeping him away, holding him alone A wounded drummerboyDrummerboy
The dark of his room surrounds him Embracing his mood, blending with his clothes The easiest to see, his pale face With two dark eyes, encircled by a halo of black hair A gothic drummerboy
He hates his life, hates his school Calls the cup half empty Or else it depends, on how it began His own life, utterly desolate &
life
Neutral
--
People with weaknesses get killed by the people who lack them. Notice I'm not dead. (Kerrigan)
Yet.
--
Gypsy
--
People with weaknesses get killed by the people who lack them. Notice I'm not dead. (Kerrigan)
Yet.
--
L'esprit c'est comme un parachute, s'il reste fermé, il s'écrase.
--
People with weaknesses get killed by the people who lack them. Notice I'm not dead. (Kerrigan)
Yet.
Dina.
--
Inspire Me!!
--
Gypsy
--
Gypsy
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