Introduction
I don't have a heart for fakers who shed crocodile tears nor do I have sentimental value for emotional basted-s. I'm the devil's work of art. Nobody knows me too much to hurt me neither does anyone knows me too deep to understand me.
Blogging
the third party
Laid back on my comfy seat
I hear problems they can defeat
All I could do was to shed some pitiness
As they poured out their heart's emptiness
I try very hard to understand
Even then they have to make their own stand
All I could do is just say
Memories are yesterday
The future is today
I can't tell them what is right or wrong
As they have to write their own life story...