A sheet and many, too many crayons. Opened books, tales of distant countries. Photos, songs, white canvas, colours, letters and black ink pens on a messy desk.
A winter afternoon, a cup of tea.
That's the way she looks.
Then, you feel angry, and lonely, unsafe.
A cup of tea: the only one thing that will fix everything
You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one