Bumerang - Yazarkafe
How Come? Blue, Blue and Blue
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How Come? Blue, Blue and Blue

Being able to call mom is another peace

 

If I always loved others when I was younger, I thought my love for my mother was not enough. It's like thinking love is a quota. At that time I did not know the meaning of the word quota. An 8-10 year old boy can only love, but he thinks... I had a friend who wasn't his mother. Whenever I went to bed every night and woke up every morning, I was afraid that I would be left without a mother. The sky is blue for everyone, but not everyone can look at the sky... The beautiful blue color is part of my mother's eyes.


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