Writers Room
T
Tom Allport
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The writers room
Where money doesn't matter
Where stories are spun
From dry white deserts
To Vampires on the run
The writers room
Where tea or coffee are served
Where dead men can speak
From where daffodils grow
To a future most bleak
The writers room
Where we talk the clock around
Where splendid hearts go
From a home to a home
To tell their stories of laughter and sorrow.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş