This is a poem by Meuna who is 7 years old on his mother’s birthday: enjoy.
Nobody knows that I died a long time ago.
But she would have known,
Even from the slab at Melen.
When you love her, say: “Journey with me through all of life’s worst despair,
My little flower, through life, surviving hostile care”
9 is like something uncompleted, but with a tinge of very special. If God multiplied Himself, there would be 9 of Him. It could have taken 9
What are we teaching our kids? Life is becoming so demanding, that we don’t tolerate each other. Life has become so artificial, that we have
I told him exactly the same as I’m telling you now: The gun you point at your people is a gun you point At your