Locked in…
Looking out…
Abandoned by love…
And well-intentioned liberals…
In hidden rooms created by people other than me…
Crucified by public opinion…
And political will…
We are hidden…
For all to see…
In the mist of time… Trees move away in the distance… Getting fainter… A still and silent world of beauty…. Green giving to...
I do not know this place... It seems like a dream somehow...a memory maybe... It smells of holidays in my youth... Roads are...
Love is when a day is like a dream with no time... But as real as the pain of heartbreak... Love is when someone climbs a mountain to...
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