SHA Small Heath Alliance

skyward, when the lights came on.
Count, on each stanchion, how many searchlights there were that would not brighten the turf tonight,
but console myself that instead, TF, would illuminate the darkness.
The early seventies, the dawn of man.
Michelangelo weaving patterns on the verdant green as beautiful as anything seen on far Sistine.
I used to look skyward, when the lights came on.

Deep

Not the catchiest protest song

I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream; that's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight razor...and surviving.

*wipes tear*

I like that

beautiful

That's brilliant mate.

👏👏👏

You should send that to the great man.