dpben10pwn

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry You don't know how lovely you are. It was a quarter past midnight and New York City had never been quieter. It was as though the city felt Donatello’s pain. Understood how he needed silence to concentrate. To get a hold of his emotions and mind. And he was grateful for that. Dodging from shadow to shadow in the grassy part of the city, Donatello finally came to the spot he was looking for. He didn’t need a map to find this place or be told any directions. He knew it by heart. And the turtle knew it was engraved in it like a pathetic map he never wanted to throw away. Donnie stood in front