
No AudioI, God Apollo, write my poems in my temple. My long gorgeous blonde curls and sun kissed skin shine and glow in the sun of Helios. As I write words on a paper scroll, a purple Hyacinth flower falls and lands flatly on my desk, I look up and notice the flower. Some say I might be a bit too emotional but only looking at those purple flowers I always think about him... the boy who I will never forget, I pick up the petal and put it at the corner where it has small things of my love. I miss you...






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