Journal: Her worries
-------------------------------------------Mood: Due-like
She sat up from her old chair
her hand quickly went to her stomach feeling the child whithin
If worries killed, she should be dead
For nothing could change her fate
That was a part from a poem I will write soon. I hope (laughs)
Anyways I feel tired and sick. My knee still hurts. Yes I was clumsy enough to fall in a pothole.
Ahh well I must go conquer the world.
...Created 2007-11-14 14:16:41 [ View Past Journals ] [ View as Blog ] |
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