the miserable life of a miserable teenager

rain cloud



Everyone sees my cloud, as it floats above my head. How could I hide it now?My cold dead eyes,

My pale lifeless face,

My nihilistic personality.

Was it ever sunny out?Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

Or did we miss the thunder, before the lightning?

They say, “A criminal isn’t born, they’re made.”

Not necessarily a criminal, though I sometimes have the mind of one.

So maybe, it’s true. I had a beaming sun.

And you were the cloud.

Yes, I made it rain,

But why’d you give me a cloud?


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