I'm cold, but when I close the window. I need to hear the noise made by rain on the window sill. The wind rocked the pot of green ribbons and close my eyes. One of my arms in an embrace and fund alone the Magna Carta music makes me feel good. I tell myself that everything will happen and will return the butterflies fluttering around the garden of our dreams.
When rain has wet the washing, you can not turn back. The Time will dry. Therefore try to jump over obstacles and facing a new task.
the moment leave it to Lord Byron for a while and devour a good adventure book.
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