My childhood was stolen

I like the weak weaknesses of advocacy, rather than the normal weaknesses of impartiality: not knowing, not being and not. No matter how much I think of him, even if he slapped him in the face

My childhood was stolen first and I'm not falling and now my identity is stolen. Maybe it's about getting caught. The hard wind I caught before was a nice breeze at first.

My childhood has only one memory. What's not so bad isn't buried. Mazin didn't come to do anything. I have plenty of time. I'm at the bottom of a waterfall and I compete to hunt and cry. Most of my life in Iraq is always my identity. Some kids caught a friend who made me an enemy. Love can always be a burning fire. The remaining two sides of the joint. I always owe me more than I do. What is a strange debt and I owe it to the debtor. Finally, when the mortgage comes to my senses, my soul is now in dilemmas. I condemned life to loneliness.

I'm close: my friends, looking for enemy friends, reducing love, love and rapprochement. Every time I open the door of my house and my heart.