tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40097932011-04-21T12:39:59.208-07:00just my imagination. . . running away with me. .<html>
each day through my window,<br>
I watch him as he passes by...<br>
I say to myself, I'm so lucky he's so fly...<br>
To have a boy like him,<br>
is truly a dream come true...<br>
Out of all the girlies in the world, he belongs to you...<br>
</html>Khristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10985544393285034734noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009793.post-857353432002-12-09T09:33:00.000-08:002002-12-09T09:33:04.180-08:00I get so <b><s>weak</b></s> on my knees,
<br />I can hardly <s>speak</s>,
<br />I lose all <b>control</b>
<br />And <i>something</i> takes over <b>me</b>
<br />By my side, I swallow my <b>pride</b>
<br />Your <b><i>love</i></b> is so <b>sweet</b>
<br />It knocks me right over my <s>feet</s>...
<br />Can't explain why your <b>lovin'</b> makes me <b><i>weak</b></i>...
<br />
<br />My <b>life</b> is so <i>boring</i>. My little sister is <s>depressed</s>. I'm confused whether to quit <b><i>school</b></i> or <s>not</s>.<br> My <b>life</b> is <s>shit</s>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4009793-85735343?l=bymywindow.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Khristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10985544393285034734noreply@blogger.com