It was winter night I met you
To the cold to the wind
Everything was just right
Like how the sun will be bright
Even on the moodiest day
You bought a life
A sunflower that brightened
Every version of me
That never dies
It was winter night I met you
To the cold to the wind
Everything was just right
Like how the sun will be bright
Even on the moodiest day
You bought a life
A sunflower that brightened
Every version of me
That never dies
Every version of me is the line I would keep. A sunflower turns its head to follow the light, so it fits that this one stays with all of them and not only the version having a good day.
Meeting someone on a cold winter night and then naming them after a summer flower is a nice little contradiction to hang a poem on.
I see this in video game criticism, too. There's a term called metroidvania , used to describe platform games featuring exploration, abilities that unlock new paths, challenging bosses, and other…
There you go. You have a dead book.
Homer Simpson is an idiot. At least, that is how the world knows him.
To me, this is the stupidest question in the world. And since so many people answer it, writing is simply taking a piece of paper or sitting down in front of a computer and writing. Even famous…
When I was younger, my mother asked me what I wanted. I wanted a computer. She wanted to buy me a motorcycle. In the end, I got the computer.
People do terrible things. Some know exactly what they are doing. Others do not. And perhaps the latter are the hardest to understand, because they can hurt, destroy, humiliate, and even ruin their…
Once, I was at a bar on Augusta Street with a friend. We had drunk ourselves silly when a group at the next table started talking about Romero Britto.
A Book Can Have An Amazing Story, But A Weak Ending Can Change Everything.
It was winter night I met you