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#gander
a frazzle was cold pepper in the cloud that hydroponic filament but sink with compost may revere lent with ammonia as this Evangelical was the entitlement of American in Waterloo with corporate rain there
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Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 12:51 PM UTC
Waterloo
Meeting the foul faced fiend & foe we call death. Lurking about looking for souls, a collector in the truest sense. Mortals can be persistent,pondering away subsistence. From death breaths life, a rotting coexistence. There is nothing but bones left A gorgeous array of decay The splendor of existence lost The amusement of resistance Gandering at the reaper we can see life, and reflect We may see many worlds, life in the blink of an eye, right before our death. Try not to inject your morals for the minds you infect. Is there ever really a time when there's absolutely nothing left? In the world of your mind you must be the architect. the worlds crumbling down. Your mind is yours to ***** There is nothing but bones left A gorgeous array of decay The splendor of existence lost The amusement of resistance The dead flower has more power than your wilted soul. My knife has more life to watch death grow. That broken glass a stones throw. You are Building up a rebels soul. There is nothing but bones left A gorgeous array of decay The splendor of existence lost The amusement of resistance Nothing but bones. Such a gorgeous array. The splendor of existence.The amusement of resistance, and the foul faced fiend we call death. Looking for souls. Morality they say..... Mortals can be persistent. pondering away subsistence. Gandering at death we see life and reflect Try not to inject your morals, minds you infect. Is there ever a time when there's nothing left? In the world of your mind, be the architect. The dead flower has more power than your wilted soul. My knife has more life to watch death grow. That broken glass, stones throw. Building up a rebels soul.
0
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 5:56 AM UTC
****** Bones
Meeting the foul faced fiend & foe we call death. Lurking about looking for souls, a collector in the truest sense. Mortals can be persistent,pondering away subsistence. From death breaths life, a rotting coexistence. There is nothing but bones left A gorgeous array of decay The splendor of existence lost The amusement of resistance Gandering at the reaper we can see life, and reflect We may see many worlds, life in the blink of an eye, right before our death. Try not to inject your morals for the minds you infect. Is there ever really a time when there's absolutely nothing left? In the world of your mind you must be the architect. the worlds crumbling down. Your mind is yours to ***** There is nothing but bones left A gorgeous array of decay The splendor of existence lost The amusement of resistance The dead flower has more power than your wilted soul. My knife has more life to watch death grow. That broken glass a stones throw. You are Building up a rebels soul. There is nothing but bones left A gorgeous array of decay The splendor of existence lost The amusement of resistance Nothing but bones. Such a gorgeous array. The splendor of existence.The amusement of resistance, and the foul faced fiend we call death. Looking for souls. Morality they say..... Mortals can be persistent. pondering away subsistence. Gandering at death we see life and reflect Try not to inject your morals, minds you infect. Is there ever a time when there's nothing left? In the world of your mind, be the architect. The dead flower has more power than your wilted soul. My knife has more life to watch death grow. That broken glass, stones throw. Building up a rebels soul.
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in romeo will gather in street here with gypsum bandeau that might shed such fear with our dilatory cling only where he'll sing but anywhere nigh in romeo if a basket of groupers never taser hinds still heed the call whether love will shine in romeo
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Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 7:22 AM UTC
Pious Jorge
my love is like a river where nights are like an owl that glorify my lore if a riverbed only measure the toll for our next day never is desire but is evolving a latter reason that we fight geese and flew below the weather where a night ours melted together though we'd treasure dawn again and hither stave hunt here whether it's a moonlight parade as darkness edge the water again my dire wicked life midst a fog in rain
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Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 7:22 AM UTC
owl glory
It’s often of a christmas time When words will dance to relish rhyme To tell the story of demander Sharp of dress – the proper gander His monocle peers down at you An eye for flight and finesse too He flutters out about your heart You want him but he’s so apart Put your treasures at his Tod’s His feathers flutter and he nods But you’re so crass, so undefined Your love for him is leagues behind While you chase with mollycoddles He’s dancing with the supermodels A candle dinner, just for two He’s sharing with Chanel, not you Leave him be, for the common we Are odious to one like he The proper gander often finds He’s chased for love by lesser minds He once brushed his Boglioli And told me that for Christmas Cindy Would meet him neath the mistletoe I should not call him, hard I know So let this poem serve as warning Do not follow your heart’s calling When you see the great demander Sharp of dress – the proper gander And now that you are out the way I’ll wait until that special day For within the wrapping and the ribbon I’m hiding ‘till I’m duly given The postie will deliver me To his doorstep and we’ll see I’ll burst forth from the wrapping paper For Christmas we will be together He’ll choose me over other women He’ll show a side he still has hidden The other girls may chase romance But faced with me they have no chance For my ship has one commander My love’s the world, he’s Alexander Without him life would be much blander How I want the proper gander.
0
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
The Proper Gander
It’s often of a christmas time When words will dance to relish rhyme To tell the story of demander Sharp of dress – the proper gander His monocle peers down at you An eye for flight and finesse too He flutters out about your heart You want him but he’s so apart Put your treasures at his Tod’s His feathers flutter and he nods But you’re so crass, so undefined Your love for him is leagues behind While you chase with mollycoddles He’s dancing with the supermodels A candle dinner, just for two He’s sharing with Chanel, not you Leave him be, for the common we Are odious to one like he The proper gander often finds He’s chased for love by lesser minds He once brushed his Boglioli And told me that for Christmas Cindy Would meet him neath the mistletoe I should not call him, hard I know So let this poem serve as warning Do not follow your heart’s calling When you see the great demander Sharp of dress – the proper gander And now that you are out the way I’ll wait until that special day For within the wrapping and the ribbon I’m hiding ‘till I’m duly given The postie will deliver me To his doorstep and we’ll see I’ll burst forth from the wrapping paper For Christmas we will be together He’ll choose me over other women He’ll show a side he still has hidden The other girls may chase romance But faced with me they have no chance For my ship has one commander My love’s the world, he’s Alexander Without him life would be much blander How I want the proper gander.
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