When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?
Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now,
From deep within the flow of time...
But, for a certainty, back then,
We loved so many, yet hated so much,
We hurt others and were hurt ourselves...
Yet even then we ran like the wind
Whilst our laughter echoed,
Under cerulean skies...
I’m afraid to get my own mail
I feel like there’s a coiled-up snake in the back waiting to see my stupid face staring into the mailbox so it can attack me
I’m sure there’s already a Facebook group that encompasses such a sentiment
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Created by TheMusician
