For me, the description of the pain at that time I wrote, I wrote, wrote, wrote in words. I still write. In fact, once he opened the door to the cold of my house door crashed into a composition that I wrote a composition of the teacher, while the right ears ring, I cried all night long, he hugged me to kiss his heart. What a nice word I would kiss from the heart.
Why did I tell you all night at night? From the heart of kissing loved ones, even if you do not like the fact that every person in front of you. Because everyone has a pain in them.
I can tie it up one way or the other. Don't ever wonder. That's why I'm laughing. I'm in the middle of every winter. Because my father didn't know that he was gone to bring water right in the kitchen and my mother kept grabbing and moaning at me. Don't worry that you have a morning of every night.
The days passed, then weeks and months. The house is full. The story of the arrivals, the outgoing and the bitter I've never heard of before. That's why I'm still singing my song in the dying house. For the sake of the outgoing, and I'm thirsty, I tell my sad story.
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