I want to make a confession. Writing was only a profession. I could not go on, my writings were black, and that’s when you know, love is what you lack. and then I met the color red, the meaning of all the books I’d read. Everything was just right again, and time for me to write again.
She is full of energy and full of passion, beautiful and in fashion. You can see the best eclipse, when her finger’s on her lips. Let me tell you how, she makes me say wow, every time she tries, to open her eyes. By the time her sleep is a bit softer, its almost noon or sometimes after. She opens her eyes and mid-way through, she starts to yawn while looking at you. She counts to ten and yawns again. Then wears a smile and keeps it for a while. and that is when, gates of heaven, suddenly open. Everywhere gets filled with light, angels now help me to write. No more black for as I said, I have met the color red.