If the dews froze under the Sahara,
The blaze will not then wither the will,
If the peace is no longer fluttering doves,
THEN THE HATE THEN WILL TURN TO LOVE
AND IT'S KILLING ME
I hate knowing
that you’re
online
, but you won’t message me.
that you’re
texting
, but you won’t reply to me.
that you’re on the
phone
, but you were too busy to call me.
that you’re
happy
, but not with me.
with love,
NAAA
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