- March 5 2013 | - Read More →
Check out my new style blog, and have a merry Christmas!
Great song, but I feel like I know these guys, unfortunately. Reminiscent of Paulding Co., Ga. And check out the captain’s shirt.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Writing is 90 percent procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching infomercials.