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''spending good times with chickens does not mean you will develop feathers''encouraging friendships
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A Letter To My Unborn
The one I never seen, the one I might never meet.
I wrote in many wet papers. None was dry, as the tears of my eyes wet them,
They were bespattered with blood from my heart,
My actions went too far, far from my thoughts.my mind was not at peace.
When the hands of time turns, time go on, no turning back.
The temptation stroked, attacked and caught me.
Together our lives have changed. Unlike yesterday; we no longer dance for tomorrow.
We no longer sneak out, all stops. They all stopped.
Maybe one day when the gates of the north closes,
We might meet on the gates of ...