Trying to love, not let hate shove. Love in the morning, love in the evening, love at supper time. Love, love, love, all the time.
If I don't, love won't. It would be meaness, hate and evil, in the morning, in the evening, even at supper time, hate would sublime.
On all the evil fools, casting their evil drools. But I understand, their evil demand. Mine maybe different in form, but still the same harm, casting its evil charm.
The captivating music of birds and the enchanting beauty of roses have, each in their own right, inspired people around the world for as long as anyone can remember. How the two combine with the challenges faced by a struggling writer in Georgia to c
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Love Tinka