Sometimes, these self-same things start again. For lots of good reasons, say, or perhaps none at all. The poppy opens. The chorus screeches. The (new) beginning.
It's one of those times.
Thing Happened. We Laughed. We Cried. It Ended. Then It Started Again.
Sometimes, things end. They go up in flames; they meet a fiery end. Or not. They die out; they fizzle. Maybe you have 1,000 reasons why; maybe you have none. Whatever. The end.
Sometimes, these self-same things start again. For lots of good reasons, say, or perhaps none at all. The poppy opens. The chorus screeches. The (new) beginning.
It's one of those times.
Sometimes, these self-same things start again. For lots of good reasons, say, or perhaps none at all. The poppy opens. The chorus screeches. The (new) beginning.
It's one of those times.
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