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TO NOT BURY THE HATCHET by Kimbugwe, Joseph

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The Best Bury The Hatchet Poems

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Equality

        

The one thing in life we all strive to be is equal in every degree,
And I think everyone should have the same rights, don’t you agree?

We can all be equal but we cannot all be the same,
There is a difference and you can’t hold other people responsible are try to point the blame.

Certain things that have happened should be buried and forgot,
Otherwise it is like a cancer that will eat at you till you rot.

We all need forgiveness in our lives and truly that is the key,
Without forgiveness none of us are free!

The next step is compassion and kindness,
Show love instead of hate, helpfulness instead of hurtfulness might be a way out of this mess!

Teach respect and honor, not bigotry and greed,
Then maybe God will water and nurture that seed.

God made each and every one of us and I don’t think this squabbling He had in mind,
So we should all bury the hatchet and live for tomorrow, for yesterday is already one day behind.



Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2008


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Give Peace A Chance Part 2

Yet Africa is
expected to fall in
line 
With speed and
alacrity 
Or be headed back to
Europe 
For much deserved
censure
And sanitization in
the heart
Of brutish Europe!
Have we not seen
them in action
At Treblinka and
Auschwitz, brother
With their atomic
bombs in Hiroshima
With their weapons
of mass destruction
With their napalm in
Vietnam, Vietcong
With their sjamboks
in apartheid South
Africa

I plead not for
impunity, a term
recently coined
For Africa, but not
for Syria, or Korea,
or Iran
I plead not for
that, no, I plead
for my country
For I can see a
finger I distrust
pointing at us
And I know it is
time for the
neo-colonialists
And their myopic
followers to hit the
road
To proclaim once
again that they have
come
To pacify and
civilize the savages
of Africa 
Africa must know
that the Sword of
Damocles
Has never hung so
close to the African
head
As in this day and
age of African
impunity!

Knowing full well
that that is the
biggest lie
Who was it that
caused Africa to
adopt
Dictatorship or a
clone of
dictatorship
Shortly after
national
independence
In the second half
of the 20th century
Oh, that is history
now, forget that.

Was the Cold War a
creation of Africa?
Was communism the
brain-child of
Africa?
Were these disputed
borders created by
us?
Why then do we bear
the brunt of your
wrath?
Understand me my
brother or at least
try to
For this pot has
been simmering since
dawn
It is now well past
its time to retire
and rest
 
Why, they ask,
should Nairobi boast
a skyline
That has not even a
single colonial-day
edifice
Having been dwarfed
by modern
skyscrapers
Kenya cannot be
allowed to be a
beacon, no
They have done
enough damage to our
claim
That nothing good
can come out of
Africa!

Having painted all
Africans with one
brush
They now seek to
justify that
misconception
For they can claim
that South Africa is
special
Anything north of
the Limpopo is in
shambles
And must needs
European talent and
wisdom 
And control, control
and more control,
brother
And having recruited
sycophantic
followers
To sing and dance to
blind impunity songs

They, like the
greedy mouse, will
hear no cat

Is it now a crime to
change one’s mind?
When Kenyans said
yes to The Hague
Did they know that
the warring people
Would embrace peace,
bury the hatchet
And vote together in
peaceful elections?
Did they know that
sense would prevail
And banish anger and
retributive clamour?

What is in it for
the international
community
If internal and
regional peace are
anathema?
What is in it for
Kenya if we win the
battle
And lose the war-
the long term war we
crave
Is it not the wish
of Kenyans to live
in peace
Is it not the wish
of Kenyans to
embrace each
And every community
as brothers and
sisters
In the new
dispensation that we
have created?

Who is this then
that is urging us to
harden our hearts
Who is it that is
hell bent on
re-sowing seeds of
hatred?
Who is this that is
courting disaster in
the name of justice?
Who is this that
wants us to believe
that the community
The region, the
country, the nation
is now subordinate
To the individual
and if the country
burn in the process
So be it, so be it,
so be it, so be it.
You are lost, my
brother?
We lost so many; we
cannot afford to
rock the boat again!
It was a war that we
ineptly got
ourselves into, my
brother
It was Kenya’s
moment of shame. But
it was also Kenya’s
Moment of renewal,
rebirth. Such
moments are painful!

Give Peace A Chance
In Kenya, too, Ban
Ki Moon and 
All those wise men
and women who know
what it means!


Copyright © Gerald Kithinji | Year Posted 2013


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Stentorian in our hearts

The song still reverberates
with a clarion call to everyone
love as its predominant cry
embodies the message of being human.

It’s also what the gospel says
in Christ the Lord, our Model,
who always tells his disciples
love God and one another.

An act of charity or act of love,
shows already what God is all about;
through him we  become part of his kingdom.

However, a radical response implies,
especially at the major crossroads
when we don’t get along well
with our companions or friends in our lives.

To love our enemies can be hard
when our vulnerability is hurt
and even tested in a number of times
It’s really a test of faith, a challenge indeed.

St Luke in his gospel says, ‘love your enemies,’
‘pray for those who mistreat you,’ 
involves a huge amount of renunciation,
emptying and saying , ‘all for the Lord.’

Pride causes everything to get crippled
from within where the heart dictates us
never mind and ‘bury the hatchet now’
because God himself did it himself for us all.

Like those crooked lines deep within us
are lines that depict envy, hatred and anger;
through our efforts and God’s assistance
we can straighten them in a gradual way.

The historical figure of Christ,
our measure in today’s world;
he’s the compendium and source of all
that love we share to everyone.


Note:

Stentorian means extremely loud


Copyright © mark escobar | Year Posted 2012


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Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 63

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 63

The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
Poïetics the creative process neither
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

Who has returned to re-possess carcass to let
If ever one there was what does he remember
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret

Which Pharoah still sails to lands unknown in debt
Which Zhong Guo Emperor led clay armies conquer
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

Yi Jing puts most of it down to whims of climate
The old lay their weary bones down by winter
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret

To kill no one first needs bury the hatchet
No Marquis de Sade roughride Justine either
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

Does Death disintegrate essence ultimate
Cult of the Unknown Fear of the Nether
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016



Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016


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The Eclipse

??I watched TV from 8:35, 
Until I saw Stargazing Live,  
Which told me about the dive. 

It got cold and dark, 
It was the movement’s mark; 
It was phenomenal, worth a remark.  

I saw the whole thing, 
Until the birds did again sing, 
I felt like I was on an eagle’s wing. 

You had to keep deciding, goon, 
Which was the sun, and which the moon, 
So that you didn’t get a wooden spoon. 

It was a beauteous sight, 
Of natural selection’s light, 
Which also claims freedom’s might. 

It was indeed magesti??c,
So I will not test it, 
‘Cos that would be pathetic. 

Life is not cryptic, 
So just accept things, bury the hatchet, 
And don't create for yourself another wicket. 

I saw the small explosion, but felt safe, 
Because I was at a distance, like a waif; 
I didn't need to have a faith! 

Evolution makes me feel included, 
In that transitional static, so fluid; 
That monumental fusion, not stupid. 

The next eclipse is in 2026, 
So please don't get into a fix:
You’ve got time to lick your lips. 


There was an eclipse of the sun by the moon in the UK on Friday the 20th of March at about 8:35am until about 9:45am.


Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015


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Peace and war

Peace and war

Why should the world like a magdalene 
Cry over the war heinous  atrocities 
Abide reaping scores of casualties like sardines 
Castigate fate and disregard unbridled hostilities

Why should the world license instead
War merchants over our destiny preside 
Amble leisurely and upon our values tread
Inundate the market and imposts hide

Why should the world continue to swallow this bait
Let arms dealers bedevil our feeble minds
Turn a deaf ear to quandary and so peace ignite
Bury the hatchet and peace pipe light

We will tarry to God insistently implore 
Yet bring war criminals to justice and terminate this folklore.


Copyright © Abdelwaheb dhaou | Year Posted 2015


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Don't Wait Till Am Gone

Treat me with love, dignity, respect and
compassion now as I am healthy, vibrant and
alive.
Don't wait to hear that I am sick and dying to love
me the way I was meant to be loved.
Bring me flowers and candy on any day just
because...
Don't wait for a holiday, love and cherish me
every day.
Tell me I am beautiful...
See my beauty in my body and soul.
Don't wait to see that I am disfigured and then tell
me that I am beautiful...
Because you think that is what I want to hear.
Talk to me lovingly now so I can hear your
beautiful voice and listen to the ringing of your
laughter.
Don't try to talk to me that way now that I am deaf
and can no longer hear your sweet voice.
Speak words of love and compassion so I can
remember those conversations...
Even though I may not be able to hear them
again...
Come one day and you will be sad, you will be
sorry!
Treat me like a human being with a life that needs
to be lived my way...not yours!
Remember that our Creator gave you your own
life to live the way you please...
Leave me to live mine!!
I do not tell you what you should or should not
do...I just listen and give you support.
Why can't you do the same?
I am this way and you are that way...
That's because we are different...we are
unique...can't we compromise?
Bury the hatchet and move along...
Free your body, free your soul...
Let's just take the precious time we have now to
live and to love...
Everything else will slowly fall into place.
Now I am sick and dying...
You are now trying to love me, to bring me
flowers, to stroke my hair and to speak loving
words...
Why did we waste all those years, all that
time...just to be where we are now...
Now when I am too weak, too sick to enjoy your
gifts!
Love me now...
As your sister, your brother, your husband, your
wife, your niece, your nephew, your daughter,
your son...
Don't wait until it is too late!
Don't wait until I am gone...
(Its another weekend and most times it does not


Copyright © EMMANUEL DICKSON | Year Posted 2016


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A Duel

"A Duel"
By Rachel Heffington

Long ago in a valley green,
Where a thriving hamlet once had been
Was a rubb-ly castle, hidden well
By maples tall, in a shady dell.
The penants, fluttery once, and gay,
Now hung in shreds- a faded gray;
The tower was crumbly, the dias leaked,
And in the dungeon the mouses squeaked.
Now, Squire Cliff and Baron Bim,
(Both plum full of peppery vim)
Engaged in a duel on the weedy lawn
As the edge of night gave way to dawn.
The Baron, (insulted) and the Squire (quite red
With anger) their stout hearts quivered with dread.
None wanted to fight, they dallied and stalled,
"3 Paces!" which words their courage dulled.
But neither would give it up as a joke-
"What we need s'for Bim (th'old Baron) to choke!"
The sun had climbed higher, now quite in the sky,
They drew swords and poised, "Hark! Where comes that cry?!?!"
Repeated! And from the dell came a maid,
With basket and blanket, their arms she stayed-
"Kind Squire! Good Baron! You mustn't fast!
Come, bury the hatchet, enjoy this repast!
Reluctant, but grateful, each laid down his arms,
Exploring instead, a beef-pasty's charms.
They kissed and made up o'er a cup o' darjeeling,
And surely there was quite a brotherly feeling.
And so the adage shall henceforth be,
"All's well that ends with a cup of tea!" 
 


Copyright © Rachel Heffington | Year Posted 2011


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Excruciating pain

I'm sick, this is what cancer patients go through!
The bonds between souls and bodies, shattered!
Hopeless, yet still dreaming for life, crude.
Everything you ever dreamed of, tattered.

As I hold on to the last few strings of hope
A realization occurs, what good have I done?
This world owes me nothing, with my pain I must elope.
As far as I can, with my pain I must run!

I must slip away, before anybody recognizes I'm gone.
I don't need anyone in my way, trying to stop me.
This weight on my shoulders, so heavy, as heavy as a ton.
The decision is made. Don't turn back and eventually you'll be free.

Bury the hatchet, it doesn't matter how excruciating the pain.
By holding onto past problems, you will go insane.


Copyright © Azharuddin Adam | Year Posted 2014


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Petition

         Petition

We animals and after mature cogitation
Enunciate bury the hatchet and in peace abide
To the law of the jungle oppose our deprivation
Terminate the masquerade and nature commodities equally divide

Confide to pathetic humans the charge
To their lust grotesque for power leverage
Revamp hostility to supremacy attain
Ignoramus jackasses seeking to hold the reins

Pharaohs,stars and emperors long proclaimed
The commanded the skies and earth germane
Their bones under earth's scum alighted
Unhurriedly putrefied and fetid smell did remain

It though takes all kinds to make a world
With disparate feathers flock like a bird.
              Abdelwaheb Dhaou.


Copyright © Abdelwaheb dhaou | Year Posted 2015


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Love thy Foes

Love your foes

The sound of the word FORGIVEN
Is very soothing to the ears,
Especially when being said to you
It is like winning a perpetual inner battle
A healing, so relieving
Sometimes unbelievable,
Because you thought you were unforgivable.
You wonder if they really mean it
Who’s perfect? We all need it,
A veil to cover our mistakes. 
But it’s more difficult when it’s our turn to say:
You’re FORGIVEN.
It takes a strong mind, a merciful heart 
Yes! Even a courageous man or woman
To let bygones be bygones,
To dig a hole, deep enough & bury the hatchet
Ensuring its skeleton never resurrect.
It takes fortitude to overcome
Even that of a slave who forgave his colonizers.
It’s hard to forgive an enemy
As long as their vice live in the mind
not erased
Yet it can be a miracle,
A rare and seldom treasure to find
Making it a special thing.
To love the sinner and hate the sin.
If they greet, share with & cherish only those who love them.
Are we different or better if we do the same? 
Let go.
And love thy foe.


Copyright © Fred Chitanga | Year Posted 2015


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Change of speed.

He was seized with an obsession,
it wasn't like balsam to his hurt feelings,
and his body has been waisted by the long illness.
The streets were bedecked with flags,
and the soldier declared himself innocent.
It was only then that they realized the gravity of the situation.
The people.
A constitutional government,it's bad policy to beat him.
There was a munition shortage and wet weather gets me down.
That gloomy old house is dying as the dove of peace patronize,
the soldier.
The piney slopes were covered with snow and red spots,
as the light fell on her face,before wolves torn it to pieces.
The hope.
The soldier  showed signs of distress,i was astonished at the news.
By midday he had sold out and left for his village.
Bury the hatchet,soldier !! The place is Godforsaken.
I had a sudden pain in the stomach.
Change of speed.







Copyright © Teddy Dude | Year Posted 2007


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peek-a-boo

a solider and a sailor
sing a lonesome song just for your entertainment
but in it you are betrayed by visions of heaven
shine with the late night ribald drinkers
after all after a few bottles even mortality seems lively
disjointedly you pick your way
through all these salvation's
never quite believing that you could exceed
your worth and standing
after all you can buy a new life for dirt cheap
long as your willing to give up your lifestyle
long as your willing to be disarmed
of all those quick witted answers you think fit so well
and give up all her peek-a-boo paradise's
the solider and sailor buy a round
and toasting the queen they bury the hatchet
no expectations can lead you on to the
brink of such strange bedfellows but you'll try
you can only hope not to be a victim of such defeatism
when all the ribald drinkers have left the saloon
walking in the thin light of dawn
you will remember all these beautiful things
and dream better dreams
build better sunrises from the gloom of days ending


Copyright © mark junor | Year Posted 2015


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That's Entertainment

cut it, don't look back
don't look down
what are you doing?
the camera's eye is spinning involuntarily
but it's not aimed at you
don't get smug
you'll forget your lines
and your actions seem forced
don't think, act
that's what you're paid to do
look pretty and give a convincing mirage or two
you've repeated it over, verbatim
but now the words just won't come
don't say them, become them
put your body into them

don't muster up the truth
the lies will become you
that's entertainment

the rules are unwritten
but spoken in complete horror if forgotten
riding a wave that must come to a halt
you'll never work this business again

fake it, sell it, mold it
whatever you're feeling, feel something else
bury the burden, bury the hatchet
reach into the open with a smile and a nod
"everything's okay"

oh pretty marionette
lest we forget our lines
don't put on the regrets
but sell it, fake it, mold it

curtain call, lights flash off
the limelight lands on a bare stage
get ready for a brand new story
one where the ending doesn't quite outrank the beginning

that's entertainment


Copyright © Val Murah | Year Posted 2007


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Grief and forgiveness

Death in relationship; physical death too,
human pride caused division and hatred;
against Christian teaching of forgiveness
against life lived in harmony with others.

Like a fodder it’s something to look into.
like an encounter it’s something to live;
recognizing God’s presence in one’s life,
the need to commit oneself to forgiveness.

A personal touch of being truly human,
vulnerability forms within the heart;
a kind of understanding and healing,
hailed as an answer, a way to reconcile.

It’s a struggle to be caught up with fear,
it’s a great deal of time for emptying;
Indeed, it’s a challenge to bury the hatchet
and turn over a new life at this time.

It’s going to be a journey of renewal,
A constant experience of who I am
in relation with others or loved ones;
a continuing nothingness and acceptance.

Pains in the past, sorrows of affliction,
war of interventions and principles;
plunged in a variety of situations,
molded my own vision and disposition.

Now that I’m old enough to understand
How those scars and pains of yesteryears
Enabled me to grow and learn things
So many that I now feel beholden.



Copyright © mark escobar | Year Posted 2012


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Hatchet

I remember their faces, every single one.
Crying for help, but no one would come.
Short ones, fat ones, skinny and tall.
One by one, I hacked through them all.
Someone must stop me, I beg you to try.
Though it won’t matter, for you will still die.
Victims have tried, and tried again.
But the ending’s the same, I always win.
I’ve quit before, several times.
But it called me back, in my mind.
I need to kill, I can’t help it.
I’ve tried before, to bury the hatchet.
You can’t stop me, no one knows how.
Never happened before, so why should it now?
I hate myself. Why can’t I stop?
Can someone please help me? Maybe a cop?
I love the feeling, of ripping through skin.
I need to feel, that feeling again.
I don’t know why, truth is, I don’t care.
I’m going to kill you, somehow, somewhere.
Face it my friend, you’re out of luck.
You can’t get away, just give up.
No one can stop me, no one will.
It’s all that I know, God I love how this feels!


Copyright © Joseph Searcy | Year Posted 2008


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Intergalactic

10/26/17


On the radio the sound of static
Got some bad habits
Broke many but am still an addict

Beyond all the semantics
Life isn't always fantastic
Occasionally graphic
And tragic

Not going to panic
Or become frantic

Slight brain damage
Still I manage
Burning and earning cabbage
Working hard going savage

In the beginning hardly had s***
Now am so close I can almost grab it

Working outside and inside an attic
Then going in and out of traffic

Occasionally eating food that is organic
And other junk on my palate

These fools are plastic
Being far too dramatic
Unwilling to bury the hatchet

Taking care of anything problematic
Being pragmatic
Changes in tactics
Keeping my balance
Using my talents
Across the planet
Out of this world intergalactic

Being enthusiastic
I always wanted money and a bad B****

Just trying to avoid being in a straight jacket
Out to help my family live lavish
Before I vanish
And am in a urn or casket


Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017


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TO NOT BURY THE HATCHET

The genesis of its life;
 Inadvertent step on the toe.
 The little dark seed is planted;
 A spark starts a fire.
 An enemy is born.
 The valley of the shadow 
 Of unforgiveness;
 A fiery way for hatred
 Roasts dark
 The heart borne out of purity
 Of the creator.
 Desperateness to kill
 Metamorphoses the pious.
 A sword is wielded
 By the hand
 Of the new-borne
 Into the dark kingdom
 To do the avoidable -
 Revenge!


Copyright © Joseph Kimbugwe | Year Posted 2016


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THE VERDICT

I stood before the judge who was now wearing a black cloth on top of his head He asked the jury for their decision The foreman stood up and uttered… "Guilty of first-degree murder" The judge looked me directly in the eye and said, "Last time we met I told you to bury the hatchet" "I did your honour… but you didn’t say it wasn’t to be in her head!" 07-02-17


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017


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Love's never ending fuel

When love comes to stay at my temple
Reside and be Suprised! It will burn
Cleverly like coins in my back pocket
Love is cool,tempting, Showca$ing all the same
Let them have their day, escape/withdrawal
Love the never ending fuel, no exhaust needed

We seek, we prove, but to come hither in the groove
Never that, Us with Big Ideas
Plenty of room under the top hat
So many spaces with the all purpose key
I can create faces that never existed
Swing wildly come out on top like King of the Hill
So bury the hatchet, leave it in the grave
Love is alive, love is coarse to touch

Giving us daily bread, all the nutrients
Replenished tough, builders bonus to seek new ground
Love is by my side, she comes around
After he exciting day, theres no stopping
She's in town flirting up a storm
This twinge of jealousy I must cool
With another love, as juicy and pure
Love's all around rocking in the cradle
Love is here to stay, thank jesus just in time


Copyright © Justin Debrosse | Year Posted 2012


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Hatchet

I've argued and fought
But nothing's changed you
So I'll bury the hatchet
Only after it runs through you body
Cutting and hacking
Impailing your skin with vengeful force
It's been so long since my last tear
But the pain lingers back in my mind
Buried by the love of another
The shaken voices tell me something wonderful
Your life's end could be near
I'll send you south of Hell
Where I'm looking down from above


Copyright © Charles Grisham | Year Posted 2005


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Relevance

Not that it’s important but sorrow leads to love
The road of darkness feels soft beneath our feet
Moths circle a dim light in my heart

Her lips are wet in anticipation
Hunger consumes our skinny soul
Legs no longer needed in this room

A tree with no bark in an evergreen forest
Our hands are one for only a second
Eyes of tropical ocean green can see nothing at all

A smile on a dead face is still a smile
Liquid will fall and ease our pain
Christmas lights are up all year long

A warm summer breeze drifts across a frozen lake
Death looms over our broken lives
The sheets are clean

A lie is the truth until it’s called upon
Our homes are not on fire
Teeth chatter in warmth

Under the soil is safe and warm
Hinder us in our hour of need
Rinse away the crimson on your hands

Finding a penny is unlucky enough
The chip on our shoulder is sarcastic
Only the toes will survive

Naked is only a state of confusion
Our virginity was found
Never bury the hatchet

A heavy heart is light in her hands
Our response is likewise
Faith is only a crutch for the strong

Closing arguments are only the beginning
Leave us to our selves
See you in the morning.


Copyright © Benjamin Chapman | Year Posted 2008