When, then on that day, the last person who held any memory of me, will have moved on. The essence, the who I was, finally lost. For after day no...
When, then on that day, the last person who held any memory of me, will have moved on. The essence, the who I was, finally lost. For after day no...
You know, when as a child something small went wrong. A small scratch perhaps. But the sky had fallen upon you. Or you know when someone or a group picked...