About ‘the door slammed shut’ by anne droogsma
Strange, I've seen that face before Seen him hanging 'round my door Like a hawk stealing for the prey Like the night waiting for the day Strange, he shadows me back home Footsteps echo on the stone Rainy nights on Hausmann Boulevard Parisian music drifting from the bars
What are you looking for, to meet your death? Who do you…
Colors
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My name is Anne.
I regularly go out with my camera. I do so with great pleasure and always find gifts appearing on my screen.
This I want to share!
