This is a story of troy. Remember that storm,looking for long grass in summer, And tell yourself, that every restless night, back when you thought that everything is going right. But what if we could possibly tell that we’ll return from fires of learning and and not being another Troy. For those who burn, hurt and said those things, We’ll keep our hands to ourselves instead. Ah, if love still exists, We’ll decide whether we’re liars or still a lawyer.
Does this reminds you something? Is it?
Do let me know in the comments.