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Everybody ask me with laughing "What is love for you? Who is princess in your mind? What she looks like?" Then i say: love is a perfect sense in the world, it makes happy..it smiles ...i love her, she loves me...why do we feel happy?

i felt in love and i felt , she is the perfect girl for me..she was beatifull, she was smart, she was witty, she would makes me happy everytime...when i looked her eyes, i saw eternity...when i touched her hand, i touched the sands of desert...there was peace, there was happiness... I liked her so much i couldnt kissed her, she was so valuable for me....she was my holiday when i was be in trouble... we looked each others for hours... No talking, no touching, no thinking...Just silence and us... this was the way how we talking... and one day something changed... i couldnt realize that it came... she was sand castle for me but i couldnt notice that,then a wave cames and destroyed all my towers... back to the only sand was on my hands... She went after... Even if She took her shadow when she leave...

Everybody ask me with laughing  "What is love for you? Who is your princess in your mind? What she looks like?" Now i say, love is only doubt inside you...Love just a bitch and she will play with you, before she disappears between two red stoplights...

I think my mum, her hands are full with my sweater whichs i didn't wear any.. Just her love is pure, i  just believed if she says "Love You"...She was so fragile that, while time settles her cheek...Every time she touch my hair, her eyes get wet...and she never showed me...both joy and sorrow...no more place was for other things...Suddenly some tears overflowed..they drawed the longing to her face...Even when she cried, she smilled.So i always think that happiness make people cry...As the childs rush, just she smilled...My mum!!! Her hairs are curly..I just remember peace to peace, she was the most biggest puzzle of my life.She fought alone with all darkness of my life...compassion and puny as candle lights...

And my dad...when the whiteness fall to his hairs, he still beetle-browed, he still got anger for my fault...I liked his beard whichs tickled to me every Sunday morning ...his eyebrow havent been succumbed to his anger yet...years havent been touched.But sometimes i could be seen his eyes, small, very small glow of love...His lips gots opened, but he couldnt said..but i could be hear it...What is pretty when he smilled...It was true...My sadness got lose when he smilled...Because he smilled sometimes,just if it is really needed...So i knew that everythings ok!!!

After all, i saw my wound and i heard the sounds of bullets. it was a war around me...my blood flowed to soil...last few breaths and i smilled to my mum and my dad...Finally i was in home...and I have no more sorrow...It is the smell of the bread which was fried by mum for breakfast...it should be Sunday...because my dad is in home. and he read his newspaper..he has got a thin smile in his face...My mum is in kitchen and she is looking at me...I feel happy and i feel strong...this is a warm that gets fill to my body...and she is hugging to me..her hands in my hair..

And after, i died...all of them, wars, bullets, enemies, they arent valuable as a life...

I died that night...I will miss the Sunday Morning!!!

thanks for read, i hope i can tell this story clearly with my weak english : )