Wednesday, January 16, 2019

The Kite

Sometimes I feel like a Kite. Flying high on the blue infinite sky, and yet grounded by the hand that takes me wherever whenever it wants...if I could only break that tiny thread and run away, far very far...between the clouds and hide, never to be seen again...ah!...I want to...
let me break free.

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The Rose Bud

 A new rose bud comes, wrapped in a blanket  of cold and snow A tiny ray of sun and love That shines and brights The darkness  nights The ex...