Her name was Tory. She was quiet and stout,
There was some meaningful tattoo on her left arm.
Her name was Tory, and she stole my heart,
And then she broke it. But with such a charm!
She had blond hair. She loved both rain and fall,
And I've loved her since I have seen her eyes.
I do believe that eyes reflect the soul,
Once heart's fallen for soul - it never lies.
It was July. Hot nights - hot days - her room -
Her laugh that echoed slightly from its walls -
Her kisses and her arms on me - the doom...
Is there a way to know what future holds?
I think, there is, cause I knew with no doubt
That life will very soon drift us apart.
Her name was Tory. She was quiet and stout.
And to be honest, she still has my heart.
her name was tory
© Copyright: Диана Есьман, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124101707980
Свидетельство о публикации №124101707980
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