Acrid fumes poison my soul.
Someday, I'll have an hour or more to go outside and watch the night sky, or sleep early.
I always dreamed of living in a farm.
I dream to grow my own foods.
There are crashing of raindrops, white and heavy rain.
Creating Art, Poetry and Fiction.
Acrid fumes poison my soul.
Someday, I'll have an hour or more to go outside and watch the night sky, or sleep early.
I always dreamed of living in a farm.
I dream to grow my own foods.
There are crashing of raindrops, white and heavy rain.
