06-04-2013, 10:44 PM
There was once a church my mom worked at. i remember the stain glass windows against those windows in the attic. for some reason when i think of moth balls i think of growing up in the country side. love this poem ryan. and thanks alot of the positive edits!
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
--mark twain
Bunx