Dying, lying and you..
Dying, lying and you Last house near the lake. Was our place to rest. We were Gypsy hearts and Irish coffee mornings. We would find the quiet lake rarely, for we loved… Continue reading
Dying, lying and you Last house near the lake. Was our place to rest. We were Gypsy hearts and Irish coffee mornings. We would find the quiet lake rarely, for we loved… Continue reading
The quiet man spoke My mentor, my friend. You drank till you could no-more. Five D.W.I’s, left you walking and I was blessed to able to know you. You were a 35… Continue reading