Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Remorse Comments
Rating: ★3.0
The flowers bloomed once,
Now in Summer, ther's snow.
There's no-one to turn to - and nowhere to go.
Where green fields surrounded is yellowy hay
...
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8/1/2025 7:26:10 AM # 1.0.0
A distant sight is enchantment to the eyes. Always yesterday appears to be better than today and one lives on hope for the best tomorrow. This is the irony of fate for a fatalist. But for one who stands on his own legs and a hard worker, every day is good day.