I like the cold days,
and the fresh wind on my face;
for I am alive.
The robins will sing,
ever hidden in their tree,
but can be friendly.
I only write it,
and I sometimes read it too,
and I edit it.
As complex as simple is.
I like the cold days,
and the fresh wind on my face;
for I am alive.
The robins will sing,
ever hidden in their tree,
but can be friendly.
I only write it,
and I sometimes read it too,
and I edit it.