at his feet, he stands in the rain.
He’s looking at his hands like:
how the fuck did they get so many lines,
how the fuck did I get so old?
Why do we struggle? Why do we live?
at his feet, he stands in the rain.
He’s looking at his hands like:
how the fuck did they get so many lines,
how the fuck did I get so old?
Why do we struggle? Why do we live?