My soul is dark with stormy riot: directly traced over to diet.
My soul is dark with stormy riot: directly traced over to diet.
When you're away, I'm restless, lonely, Wretched, bored, dejected; only here's the rub, my darling dear, I feel the same when you're near.
I burned my candle at both ends, And now have neither foes nor friends.
THE HEARTS DEAD ARE NEVER BURIED.
Babies havent any hair Old mens heads are just as bare Between the cradle and the grave Lies a haircut and a shave.
The dead they sleep a long, long sleep The dead they rest, and their rest is deep The dead have peace, but the living weep.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories