A sold poem loses half its meaning. – Terri Guillemets
Nothing is sad on a beautiful morning save to look down and realize you just had the last sip of coffee and the mug sits indifferently empty. – Terri Guillemets
A sold poem loses half its meaning. – Terri Guillemets
Nothing is sad on a beautiful morning save to look down and realize you just had the last sip of coffee and the mug sits indifferently empty. – Terri Guillemets