Tell Me A Story

Tell me a story about ladybugs on fingertips. A grasshopper rested on my arm. The softest slightest rain in May. Tell me a story of synchronised heartbeats. A mother and a son laughing on a Sunday afternoon. A story of a dream and destiny being realised. Tell me a story where a miracle is seen. …

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We are all damaged Goods. Bruised and Abused. By Hurried, Harsh, Hungry Hands. Of people forgetting, To be just that much more careful. Follow me on twitter @KeituReid