I’ve shed bitter tears listening to broken words. But I never retreated from that opaque debility. Things do pass in time, the burrowing thoughts turn to dust. There is no insult inflicted in calling someone “happy”.
One day, one page, one sketch of GREAT EXPECTATIONS, published daily at 8:40 AM.
I’ve shed bitter tears listening to broken words. But I never retreated from that opaque debility. Things do pass in time, the burrowing thoughts turn to dust. There is no insult inflicted in calling someone “happy”.
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