By: Alex Lobera He was never born, yet I held him in my hands. Too early to be dead, much too early to be alive. I can’t remember all his features yet they are etched by Life’s stern chisel in the…
By: Alex Lobera He was never born, yet I held him in my hands. Too early to be dead, much too early to be alive. I can’t remember all his features yet they are etched by Life’s stern chisel in the…