trees
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I hear the waterfalls. The powerful rumbling drowns out those memories – Memories of regret and calamities. I hear the trees. The crisp rustling of the leaves whisper over my thoughts, As they try to rationalize the consequences I’ve bought. I hear the rain. Every fall invades my conscience. Each drop a welcoming interruption. Finally,
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Reading is not for everyone. In fact, I think my Dad has read one novel in his life. He may argue he’s read more, but that’s if you count Arnold Schwarzenegger’s workout guides. Hey, I wasn’t always a reader either. Up until the second grade, I think most of my teachers didn’t think I could
Simply Kayla 