frnd Writing

Dew falls gently on the grass. It comes every morning, As shure as the last, And fades away With the coming of day. Tiny round beads Greet my..

Leaves slide slowly, smoothly, down down down to the cold, cool, contemptuous ground. The earth holds tightly to all she can grasp Nev..

I am something that others may throw away. Uncared for, I am closedOff and slowly turn gray. To love I have never been exp..

SUN rays shine gaily through the blinds, Tantalizing MY eyes, Burning brightly THROUGH the falsehoods Which I truly DESPISE. How can something ..

Love is a phoenix. It always starts from the ashes of One that has fallen, died, burned. Winds lightly swirl the ashes, Tentatively asking for m..

last

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Compartment 114
Compartment 114