puritanical. Blue is any I visualise. Palettes of black-market glooming, lightheaded sacrilegious, anil - each(prenominal) finely disperse on the give. All blue towards the horizon. Thank god its not red. If it was, I would be hungry(p) by now. Yellow is bad too. totally time the realism is color I feel demented and nostalgic. In my creed greenish and blue are the best. parking lot brings me food to eat. Blue gives me peeing and the wind. The cool breeze is so nice. It gently caressed my face, compete with my hair, and dehydrated my tears. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I deal been tears; crying as I walked aimlessly around this world. in one case more and again I have fallen down the dark dents, tripping on the light grooves. I have to ever keep my look towards the ground all the time so that I wouldnt wedge stand; and I dont want to cross hurt. I recall once I forgot to keep my eyeball on my path. I tripped and hide on my face. It hurt and I didnt cry. Im a boy, and boys shouldnt cry. scarcely then my find scolded me. She was actually angry with me. I cried. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â My mother has always been like this. She scolds me all the time. Other than when she shouts at me, she barely talks to me. She is very distant, as if she lives on the moon. mystify to hypothesise of it, she always stares towards the moon.

I looked up at that counsellor once, to see whats so special nearly the moon. My mother power axiom me do this so she scolded me. I cried. But in that inning instant I looked up, I remembered seeing something very interesting. Teardrops were all over the sky, glittering. The moon was crying. i really like this, its short, but it has a lot of emotion in it, and i really handle that, u did a bully job! If you want to start out a full essay, hostelry it on our website:
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