It was an overcast and dreary morning on the old tree-lined street. Even the birds were still abed. The dismal gray was pierced with the bark of a…
Sometimes, I wonder why God never gave me a baby girl. Then I think, she would have probably been too pretty.
It was an overcast and dreary morning on the old tree-lined street. Even the birds were still abed. The dismal gray was pierced with the bark of a…
Sometimes, I wonder why God never gave me a baby girl. Then I think, she would have probably been too pretty.
It was an overcast and dreary morning on the old tree-lined street. Even the birds were still abed. The dismal gray was pierced with the bark of a…
Sometimes, I wonder why God never gave me a baby girl. Then I think, she would have probably been too pretty.
It was an overcast and dreary morning on the old tree-lined street. Even the birds were still abed. The dismal gray was pierced with the bark of a…
