#2923-Interpretations
It wasn’t the falling tears,
I disliked the most,
But the perceptions,
And his ever-judging eyes,
That often lingered,
Echoing in my mind,
Long after they had dried.
It wasn’t the falling tears,
I disliked the most,
But the perceptions,
And his ever-judging eyes,
That often lingered,
Echoing in my mind,
Long after they had dried.