Trained hands
Ink wandering, black, maybe red
Pen on paper
Brain shapes funny forms
Soul is singing
What’s in heart could be read
Then the moment to hand in
Trusting mailbox, the magic of journey, what
A postman will do
Solely at the moment of arriving destiny I rest,
Handing it over to the senses of you
Vind ik leuk:
Vind-ik-leuk Laden...
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Over Twicedoubleyou
Hello! My name is Wendy.
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