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Sometimes Sadness Needs to Speak
With the evening sun flickering through the trees, the smell of freshly cut hay filling each breath, and the chirping of a passing bird accenting the crunch of gravel under my running shoes, the lines...
With the evening sun flickering through the trees, the smell of freshly cut hay filling each breath, and the chirping of a passing bird accenting the crunch of gravel under my running shoes, the lines...