Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The gypsy
The fingers of time had left on his face trails where tears had consoled his pain. His white hair contrasted the dark of his skin... on his lips, many smiles had left their sweet taste and his eyes, transparent and blue, shined bright through the haze of thousands of memories of things unexplained. His fingers caressed of his violin the strings, and the bow played his feelings, tracing the outlines of long ago dreams,` dreams important to him, that never came true, There was sadness in his...
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