It’s a still and quiet morning, Through my window, I can see the colours of daylight breaking And somehow it reminds me of you. I know that you are often sad, And that the light of your eyes have dimmed

19 years of existence. Seldom do I write for publicity and reader's elation. My writings mirror who I am and who I want to be, what I feel and what I'm bound to feel... I frequently take my imaginations