Jiaa Baruah
I must be near the middle of my story. O may no wintry season, bare and hoary, See it half finished: but let Autumn bold, With universal tinge of sober gold, Be all about me when I make an end. And now at once, adventuresome, I send My herald thought into a wilderness: There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress My uncertain path with green, that I may speed Easily ...
Jiaa Baruah's Friends (60)
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bluese
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sanju1188
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sptember
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Edwardray
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hırcın delıkanlı
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ergin84
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somay
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rameez
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