If I could touch the sky, pull out a starry night from the clouds,
If I could write a book or read one,
If I could be wise, and see things that others didn’t know they know,
Or if I could have more hairs on my head than there are spaghetti strands in italy,
Then I would be happy.
Fourty five thousand people marched together in fantastic straight lines in order to penetrate the most secret fortress of france.
A sixteenth of them survived into their forty fifth year, as most of them died in the original attack and the rest perished shortly thereafter from acute anthrax brought upon by poisoned soup consumption.
If you cut off your hand, is your hand missing a body or is your body missing a hand?
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