As a photographer and writer; I share my curiosities in the world.
I try to build a home of wood,
it falls to pieces as it should,
my hammer will hit too hard
and send pieces out of my heart.
Her flowers sit out in the morning,
Her sweet bread crumbs fly away.
A child comes down from heaven,
But the love’s not there to stay.
I sat among the trees
I watched the sky grow weak,