agonia francais v3 |
Agonia.Net | Règles | Mission | Contact | Inscris-toi | ||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
||
![]() |
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | |||||
Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
![]() |
|
|||||
![]() |
![]()
agonia ![]()
■ À l’ombre du Mont Saint-Hilaire ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2003-02-16 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en romana] |
I sit here and I think
about you..about everything.. about everything being so simple and yet so complicated.. about the sky..the sea..the rain.. I wish I would drown in the sea fall from the sky melt in the rain for I am made of ice and I’m not even cold.. I remember one time I could walk on the waves and fly..and feel the raindrops on my warm body.. I stopped living then because I stopped thinking so untrue.. I stopped thinking..so I was living I was alive for the first time How did I die? How could I lose it? Everything is passing me by..
|
||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|||
![]() | |||||||||
![]() |
La maison de la litérature | ![]() | |||||||
![]() |
La reproduction de tout text appartenant au portal sans notre permission est strictement interdite.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Politique de publication et confidetialité