Irvan March 6, 1999
I still do my hair blowing in the wind here and there
I closed my eyes there was daydreaming memories
I let my morning cold buried from September
I touch my finger, was headed away from me to your heart
The sky appears blue when I open the window
The smell of the sun through the curtain cracks
Each blowing my breath remember
In this desolate land I'm calling all the inhabitants of heaven
Whether they can tell about you?
In this heart you have shown something special
if repeated again?
Next Words = digging--depth--determined.......