Oh I cannot help this bad poetry. An evil muse has my family and dictates every word. Really. Every groan millimeters them to freedom. It's a European muse. Hummm. 414 followers / 35.1k words
I yearn 50 dollars a day I burn a little less There is upturn and there is down turning around again fate being a clown reckensee around and I don't get sound
Well, non-readers would be more less-poetic While wrapping my gift around their heads looking, of course, the other way taken to be sold off as lichens
we've errored in jungles best forgotten that distance do not quiet these found songs still talking while you keep squawking and I don't know what is aloud