Whose ashes

It takes time to cure. It takes time to reflect one's life. I wonder whether the boy, who survived all the miserable childhood, felt miserable at all himself. It takes a pure heart to appreciate the beauty of life. And the true appreciation means that you never have to hide anything, or hide away anything. I hope I could be as frank as him.
When a day ends, I wish I could sit on the seventh step, wait for the angel, and tell him the story of my life.