Her Love Was Dusty Poem by yunar indra

Her Love Was Dusty



Her love was dusty, still exist but have been battered
His aristocratic-looking white girl first, happy now
Half his soul saturated, partly also happy
would hesitate to take the attitude

If the slices of liver injury was
He hoped it was not for the girl
Nor is it for him, the man who is in his heart
He just wanted it all to himself tremble

Her love was dusty, but still there's always going to shabby
Hope the girl can not be denied, had undesirable separation had to happen
Everything must have passed, but the division will be the memory of his brain, dispensing jealous
His heart was broken, understand all futile, he was willing to try, go home friends the night fog

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