Simply Red, Man and Women ’87
Every time we say goodbye I die a little
Every time we say goodbye I wonder why a little
Why the gods above me who must be in the know
Think so little of me they allow you to go
Simply Red, Man and Women ’87
Every time we say goodbye I die a little
Every time we say goodbye I wonder why a little
Why the gods above me who must be in the know
Think so little of me they allow you to go
Fiction, thoughts and essays.
Never rust.
Crafting my thoughts into poetry and prose.
Zomaar wat
- Si crea ciò che il cuore pensa - @ElyGioia
Fort Worth Camera Club
All about Life
Poetry, fiction
Photography by Michael Randall
secondlife, fashion, beauty, lingerie...
Photography is the Art of Exposing your Soul
23 years old girl travelling solo on a motorcycle.
haiku + images
A dedication to Hipstamatic
Adventures in life from the Sunshine State to the Golden Gate
waphco wandering photons collector
(Naked, Introspective, Outward-Looking, Exposed... A Work In Progress, Nonlinear...)
The words tell but the emptiness of bench says it.
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Thank you so much! Exactly the feeling as you say! Thanks very much for your nice comments!
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Good comment by Mr.Miel! I’ve seen lots of these ‘memorial benches’ – makes me realize the enduring impact and importance of family and friends relationships.
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Great pictures.
Thanks for liking my blog.
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