Roses are red, Violets are blue, You don't know me, But I know you. I was coordinating the university blood drive, sitting at a table helping people fill out forms when a boy arrived in front of me with this bastardized clichéd poem. He gazed down at me with his big brown eyes, grinning at his own cleverness and manufactured mystery. In fact, I did know who he was. We hadn't met, but his name was Diego.
Roses are Resting Bitch Face
Roses are Resting Bitch Face
Roses are Resting Bitch Face
Roses are red, Violets are blue, You don't know me, But I know you. I was coordinating the university blood drive, sitting at a table helping people fill out forms when a boy arrived in front of me with this bastardized clichéd poem. He gazed down at me with his big brown eyes, grinning at his own cleverness and manufactured mystery. In fact, I did know who he was. We hadn't met, but his name was Diego.