He doesn’t have a rose; yet he’s collected every thorn
He doesn’t make a sound; though he’s louder than a horn
He doesn’t have a soul; but I feel that we are one
He never steps my direction; and long may he run
© Delia Ross. 2019
He doesn’t have a rose; yet he’s collected every thorn
He doesn’t make a sound; though he’s louder than a horn
He doesn’t have a soul; but I feel that we are one
He never steps my direction; and long may he run
© Delia Ross. 2019
Just keep going…
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Byeee – do let the door hit you on the way out dear…
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