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There will come Soft RainThere will come soft rain and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;There will come Soft Rain
And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire.
And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly.
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.
Sara Teasdale (1884–1933)
by ~Starius2
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I run a Linux. If you have a problem with that, you are officially on my bad side.
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Light travels faster than sound.
That's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
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Light travels faster than sound.
That's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
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Light travels faster than sound.
That's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
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