It was September – I just felt this way.
Forever we wished, a harlot’s romance, but instead we got, another fools dance. So instead of crying, let’s go lying, in the green fields of France.
Currently there are no comments related to "September". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
