boyirl: “Every branch shaking, shifting, and falling in the icy wind, A tiny leaf at the very end holds strong, Why am I here, questioning wondering waiting, for that final pulse that will blow him down? But in that tree was a force, a force
boyirl: “Every branch shaking, shifting, and falling in the icy wind, A tiny leaf at the very end holds strong, Why am I here, questioning wondering waiting, for that final pulse that will blow him down? But in that tree was a force, a force
