"adrian" poems
Kamusta kana?
Ilang taon na ang nagdaan nuong ika'y aking nakilala.
Mahigit kumulang na rin ang luhang lumabas sa aking mga mata
Nuong ako'y iniwan **** nag-iisa.
Nuon pag ika'y naaalala nagwawala dahil sa nadarama.
Ngayon ako'y napapangiti na lamang sa twina.
Akala ko dati ay di ko makakaya,
ngunit heto unting unting sumasaya kahit wala ka.
Mahirap sa umipsa,
Pero nakaya
Mahirap sa umpisa, oo
Parang nilibing at hinampas ng troso.
Ako'y litong lito
hindi alam kung bakit ganito
Kung bat nilisan mo...
"Sana pala pinigilan kita
para ngayon para ika'y kasama parin
at nasa tabi ko padin."
Yan ang aking hiling sa unang linggong
ika'y hindi kapiling.
Ako'y humihiling sa bituin na sana ika'y bumalik sa akin
Ngunit tila ba'y hangin ang sumagot at hindi ako pinansin.
Mahal wag mag-alala
kasi kaya ko na ang mag-isa at wala ka.
Mas malakas na ako
kaysa sa dating nakilala mo.
Hindi na ako umiiyak pagnag-iisa
Mas kaya ko na.
Alam mo minsan ang ang tanong sa sarili ko
"paano kaya ikaw parin ay nandito?"
"Magiging kompleto kaya ang araw ko?"
Pero ang sagot ng isip at puso
"Mas mabuting ika'y nilisan kaysa minahal sa kasinungalingan.
Naging malakas ka nang ikaw ay iniwan.
Naging makata ka paminsan minsan."
Kaya alam ko sa sarili na mas maayos na na ako'y iyong binabayaan
Pero mas masaya at buo parin ang aking puso kong hindi mo iniwan sa kadiliman.
Sana, iyong malaman na ika'y aking minahal ng lubusan,
"Huwag **** pabayaan ang iyong kalusugan"
Aking huling habilin bago ka lumisan.
Tinanong ko parin ang aking sarili minsan,
"Ako ba'y may pagkukulang? O sadyang ako lang ang nagmahal sa aming pag-iibigan?"
Maraming tanong ang tumatakbo sa aking isipan pag alaala ay naalala paminsan-minsan.
Ngunit lahat ng yon ay di mo masasagot at aking na lamang dinagdag sa tulaan.
Lahat na ata'y aking nakwento sa tulang ito.
Ito, itong tula na ito ang tanging paraan upang malaman mo
Ang pagdurusang pinagdaanan ko
nang mawala ka sa piling ko.
Ang mga pangakong binitawan mo
para bang naglaho
Pero kahit masakit ang ginawa mo
Hindi kita masisisi sa pagkukulang nagawa ko
Hindi ko masisi ang tadhana kung hindi tayo para sa dulo.
Kahit na ganito, ikaw ang nagparamdaman ng pagmamahal
Kaya hindi ko kita malimut-limutan kahit tila ba'y ako ay sinasakal.
Sadyang ikaw lamang ay minahal
kahit na isang malaking sampal
na ako'y iyong iniwang luhaan at puso'y nagdurugo sa daan
na kahit pa'y ikaw ay may iba ng mahal
kahit pa na naubusan na ang luha at letra sa aking isipan.
At heto ako ipinagdiriwang ang ating kaarawan kung saan nagsimula ang ating pagmamahalan.
Sana'y iyong malaman,
na ako'y hindi nakakalimot sa ating tagpuan at mga kasiyahan.
Sana rin iyong malaman,
ang pangalan ng ating anghel ay Adrian.
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
The African American Blonde Bombshell on ya TV screen. It is I, ya younger victim of the bullying you caused me to suffer in our younger years together and now I am the #WCW on ya Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. She's bad huh. Too bad you lost ya chance with her and if only you knew her top secret. Maybe I should give u a chance to apologize and give me the love and respect you wouldn't give Adrian. Now that I am Alexis you want to cater to me and get my ******* down to my ankles. You want me to be ya main chick and you wanna put a ring on it. Well little do you know I am the Transgendered Barbie I always wanted to be. Oh now your surprised. Didn't know I was born a man.......or should I say your punching bag because you loved to use me to hide your real sexuality. Now the jokes on you.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
____THEY___would EACH day take the ROLL CALL ! !...iT WENT LIKE THIS= *GERRY GIRAFFE="here sir", *SHARON SNAIL= "here sir", *SIDNEY SNAKE= "here sir", *DIANNE DEER= "here sir", *HERMAN HIPPO= "here sir", *FRANCES FOX= "here sir", ....AND it seemed like the list went on "FOREVER"! ! There were not Hundreds,, thousands or Millions ,,, BUT *HUNDREDS of Millions who were on the ROLL CALL List ! Many often Wondered , How Long would it take to complete the *ROLL ?? Many often Wondered ,, Would They be on the List ?? EACH=TIME a ROLLCALL* was answered ,, Another would wait in Heated Anticipation ! ! NO ONE HERE,,,Knows for sure, When the Exact Moment of the * ROLL CALL* Started,, but= it is SURELY known for fact,, EVERYONE WANTS TO BE ON "THE" LIST ! ! Some may deny the need for the List, Some May doubt the Existence of the LIST, Some may say "WHY EVEN HAVE alist ?" Some say "EVOLUTION" has brought us here ! ! Some not Understanding ,have SHED MANY A TEAR>> *LEONARD LION="here sir", *ADRIAN ANTELOPE= "here sir", *RONALD ROACH= "here sir", *MAUDE MOOSE= "here sir", ... THEY STAND IN AMAZEMENT as they see what looks like Surrender,, Have Feared for their VERY EXISTENCE,,, Looking around in AWE,, EACH SIGHING for the Sorrow in Others Hearts , ....BUT STILL THEY ASK ?? 'W H Y THE ROLL=CALL? > *BERRY BEETLE="here sir", *CAROL CROAKER = "here sir", >> THE ROLL CALL does continue this very moment! ! AND......is promised "TO GO ON" til the " GREAT-GATHERING"...>*FLOYD FLOUNDER= "here sir", ZELDA ZEBRA="here sir",....... the list IS STILL BEING CALLED AS "W E S P E A K "...simply waiting FOR the Gathering,, AND______the "calling " OF their NAME on the * ROLL-CALL*"
Dec 17, 2010
Dec 17, 2010 at 4:05 AM UTC
Peter got a sandwich for you.
mama went shopping ,
Gabriel needs a carwash,
Cristen choked on his ***** ,
Iris sailed the oceans,
Blake died of ennui.
Martha blew her neighbour,
Adrian stole her *******
Beth went out of liquor,
Walter cooked a new batch.
Marla is a ******
Gambit dealt a new pack.
And so and so they pass by
All these million names.
Who cares to blink twice
At a facecless face?
And then came eh...! wry dry, Dont **** Me, " ... " I can't even
Say his name.
It's like this name
Blew my heart out with a shotgun
right through my rib cage.
And these are the names
Which pierce your heart
And make you breathless
Because they hold stories
That you always hid in darkness.
And
You have skeletons In your
Closet
Like thats not enough
To give you the brain flu!
But the salt on the wound
Is that-
so does your wife,
Your mistress,
And everyone around you.
(gunshot)
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
Animula! vagula, Blandula,
Hospes, comesque corporis,
Quæ nunc abibis in Loca—
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,
Nec, ut soles, dabis Jocos?
TRANSLATION.
Ah! gentle, fleeting, wav’ring Sprite,
Friend and associate of this clay!
To what unknown region borne,
Wilt thou, now, wing thy distant flight?
No more with wonted humour gay,
But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn.
1.8k
Nails the length of javelins click on countertop
with the speed of a coked-up woodpecker
as this goddess of the night with bullets
of caked foundation sweating from her forehead
awaits her fifth free Long Island of the night.
Safe to say, she's a little high maintenance,
like all treasured centerpieces
of a local museum deserve to be.
She is your generation's Mona Lisa, trust.
Her sneezes will be dissected for coding.
Like the rust on buried Babylonian armor,
she lives sandwiched between myth and reality.
A Frankenstein of queer iconography,
door-knocker earrings designed by Adrian.
Stilts for heels clack on blinking dancefloor,
balancing a hermaphroditic echo
that charges through hieroglyphic binaries
with a four-on-the-floor precision.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
Si può o non può avere sentito un po 'di qualcuno di nome Kelly Clarkson sono sposati lo scorso fine settimana .E il suo matrimonio?Total .TOTALE .Svenire .Le nostre LBBers talento ultra dietro Archetype Studio Inc. ha fatto gli onori di catturare il giorno e stanno dando a noi anatre poco fortunati una sbirciatina a tutti la bella .
e dire la verità .un piccolo sguardo a Tennessee fattoria matrimonio di Kelly è tutto quello che dobbiamo sapere che siamo con tutto il cuore in amore .Non siete d'accordo
?
Fotografia : Archetype Studio Inc. | Abito da sposa: " Jessamine " by Temperley London | Anelli : Johnathon Arndt | capelli: Robert Ramos | Vestito dello sposo : John Varvatos | Fascia : Maria Elena | Trucco : Ashley Donovan | Stylist : Steph Ashmore| Luogo: Blackberry Farm
Prima di testa fuori nel fine settimana .abbiamo pochi vincitori super speciale !
Emily R abiti da sposa 2014 portato a casa un paio di Wedgewood Vera **** abiti da sposa 2014 Amore Nodi tostatura flauti da Secrets abiti da sposa corti Puerto Los Cabos Golf \u0026Spa Resort !Woohoo!
E complimenti a Fiona McGregor \u0026Nick Connellan .che hanno vinto una sessione impegno libero da Adrian Tuazon Fotografia !
Buon fine settimana !xoxo SMPTemperley London è un membro del nostro Look Book .Per ulteriori informazioni su come vengono scelti i membri .fare clic qui .Archetype Studio e Adrian Tuazon Fotografia sono membri del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Archetype Studio Inc. vedi portfolio Adrian Tuazon Fotografia VIEW
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http://188.138.88.219/images_ld/td//t35/product_thumb/1/4173335353535_396812.jpg
http://www.belloabito.com/goods.php?id=855
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
It was threatening rain for a week or more
It was always threatening rain,
The Weather Bureau was always sore
When the threatening rain never came.
We’d hold an open air barbecue
Each time they said it would come,
‘Hey it’s gonna rain,’ said Oliver Payne,
‘What do they think, we’re dumb?’
But the Bureau Chief, one Adrian Reef
Said he was sick to the core,
Why wouldn’t the weather behave itself
Like it had done before,
‘It’s making us look like a laughing stock,’
He bitterly said to Jane,
‘I want you to ring up the airport now
And charter a small, light plane,’
He loaded the plane up with dry ice
And a generous load of salt,
And lugged along an elephant gun,
The plane took off with a jolt,
He peppered the clouds with ice that day,
He put his job on the line,
The last thing he wanted to have to say:
‘The weather is going to be fine.’
And down on the ground at the barbecue
We were sizzling snags and steak,
Having an ice cold beer or two
And trying to stay awake.
The sultry weather was drowsy then
We’d heard the report, in vain,
But just when the steaks were nicely done
It came down, bucketing rain.
We didn’t have time to pack it up,
We couldn’t save snags or steak,
In only a couple of minutes there
We were staggering round in a lake,
And Oliver’s esky floated away
With the rest of the beer we’d bought,
While we took shelter as best we could
Under cover of Maggie’s porch.
The water rose right up to our knees,
Our cars were afloat that day,
The chickens drowned and the old hearth hound
Was found seven miles away,
While on the Teev was the Bureau Chief
With a grin that was not quite sane,
He knew he’d won with his elephant gun,
‘The sky is threatening rain!’
David Lewis Paget
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
and you said: "I hope you like chocolate."
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCLI)
I've not had choclate, nor a taste, in pale
Excuse, for that in days, perhaps cuz hence
You called yourself that, and my hunger thence
Was only for whom stole aught else, t'avail
Me of: just you. And oh! how that detail
In lieu of packaged squares, eats me and sense
Out of both home and hearth, ne crumb to fence
The **** is't? yet smudges in betrayl.
Oh, Adrian! There I must leave off. Were--
What? Savour ah, minutest crumbs, roll too
Across your tongue that darkest morsel your
Soul yields itself up to, and ah, foil to
Glint, crinkle, tease, nor but in silver tour
Hold lo, exquisite heights: what's I love you?
17May17a
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC
If we do not inhabit our verses,
what is the use of writing?
Eminescu, Rilke, Byron and Mandelstam
succeeded.
Grapes squeezed in a timepress.
If we are not alive in our images
what remains of poets?
Dew and ink,
Labour, symmetries?
Blood is the only colour
That can’t be erased from a book.
Adrian Popescu, from My Cup of Light
translated by Lidia Vianu and Anne Stewart
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 6:59 AM UTC
Qué sería de mí si no me hubieras alcanzado
Dónde estaría hoy si no me hubieras perdonado
Tendría un vacío en mi corazón
Vagaría sin rumbo, sin dirección
Si no fuera por tu gracia y por tu amor
Sería como un pájaro herido que se muere en el suelo
Sería como un ciervo que brama por agua en un desierto
Si no fuera por tu gracia y por tu amor
Qué sería de mí si no me hubieras alcanzado
Dónde estaría hoy si no me hubieras perdonado
Tendría un vacío en mi corazón
Vagaría sin rumbo, sin dirección
Si no fuera por tu gracia y por tu amor
Sería como un pájaro herido que se muere en el suelo
Sería como un ciervo que brama por agua en un desierto
Si no fuera por tu gracia y por tu amor
Si no fuera por tu gracia y por tu amor
Sería como un pájaro herido que se muere en el suelo
Sería como un ciervo que brama por agua en un desierto
Si no fuera por tu gracia y por tu amor
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
A single sober thought against a scape of memories
To simply wish for stillness upon an ever-moving sea
Silenced for the centuries as for me now to behold
Tempting not to walk away, to bide its time to come
Season only changes face twice for the human mind
Now to guess the use of being born then just to die
Elderly the woodworks, fragile beauty bitter-grown
Such it is the way of man, the seed among the sown
**Savour this scarce, small moment
Deep in the wake of a weary-worn world
Silent and long forgotten
My bed underneath a shroud of snow**
Cinnamon and broken toys, a songbird out of tune
Easy pride in scarlet dress romanticised to blue
Earnest words, a rarest toil to feed such cynic sight
Raising hope to see despair rewrite the dearest lines
Serenity now roams the sphere as if to call me home
Such yet little precious light, a beacon sight of old
Where the age once had a fright so readily to share
Now every night seems easier with every step to take
**Savour this scarce, small moment
Deep in the wake of a weary-worn world
Silent and long forgotten
My bed underneath a shroud of snow**
Come now
Enter my room
Take me back into the deep dark
The night unknown
A slave to the sunlight, kin to the moon
Within the cobweb of life all noughts become one
**Savour this scarce, small moment
Deep in the wake of a weary-worn world
Silent and long forgotten
My bed underneath a shroud of snow**
©2018, Adrian Betz
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
I switched homes in late June,
from Missouri to Kansas.
I came to a new school-
one I saw when I was young,
but never had much interest in.
That's not really important,
Not as important as the fact I've been trying to make new friends.
Yet so much of me is scarred,
from the isolation,
from the manipulation,
from the ****
There are days I think I see your face in the hallway.
My gut panics, but on the outside,
I look at my friends,
or straight ahead,
and that swing of feigned confidence
goes to my hips,
and I act as if I am not afraid.
So much of me is scarred from the fear.
You made me too terrified to accept physical affection from a lover-
or even a friend-
for over sixth months.
It took so much out of me hold Adrian’s hand.
But I did it.
Ever since that break up-
minus a five month gap-
he had been the only one to care for me.
And I am so grateful for that.
But now, nearing the end of the year,
inching closer to February,
I have so much anxiety.
I am afraid you know where I live.
I am afraid you still have my phone number.
I am afraid for my life.
I had a panic attack at midnight,
because I am finally revealing
the full extent of the fear you have caused me
to my dearest.
You have made me afraid to share my pains.
You have made me experience a fear no one should have to experience.
You have made me experience terror.
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 2:41 PM UTC
Sentado en su trono rodeado de luz
A la diestra del padre gobierna Jesús
Con ojos de fuego con rostro de sol
Cuando abre su boca es trueno su voz
CORO
Poderoso en majestad y reino poderoso
Poderoso en potestad de imperio poderoso
Un gran arco iris corona su ser,
él es el cordero que pudo vencer
Él es el primero él es el postre,
y arrojan corona delante de él
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
By the by, her prompt was summer, with several provocative, evocative poems by other authors. I began this one in meeting, cuz I'd finished that first one and people were not done scribbling, nor had she called time yet, but as the sestet proves, I finished it an hour later, outside.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCIV)
Yes, summer. Blue skies nary clouds 'non fence
While fragile boughs rock to rough winds' exhale,
Leaves whispring as these golden shafts detail
The colder silence we now scribble hence
Through, and it's not e'en eight, but nearly, whence
Ya, what? A train's deep voice in passing'd hail,
And people shift within their seats t'avail:
It's...June, and Shakespeare said "hot," aye, that sense.
Tis early, but the fifth, and cooler fer
'Most nine, as gloaming culls a winking crew
Of robins and lo, who? to lilt in tour
While I wait on this bench, and fading blue
Skies yield to friends in passing, while tis your
Face, arms, I want sae badly, Adrian: you.
05Jun17c
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 2:53 PM UTC
We seem small under the same stars
Underneath the balcony and the dying bride
A lonely shore, a sight to behold
Where only once I got to see my dreams
**I see you, I see you
Through my cradle bars
As a prisoner I’m calling upon you
Why wary
Why obsessed with stories
Written with empty words so long ago**
Think of me in moments of contentment
In sceneries only bare in their sincerity
Silvery drawn, perfectly composed
The first star of fall within a foreign shade
**I see you, I see you
Through my cradle bars
As a prisoner I’m calling upon you
Why wary
Why obsessed with stories
Written with empty words so long ago**
Taint my skies in black and blue
Sometimes dear noughts turn into nothing
**I see you, I see you
Through my cradle bars
As a prisoner I’m calling upon you
Why wary
Why obsessed with stories
Written with empty words so long ago**
©2018, Adrian Betz
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC
today we count down
years since your first breath
so let's take a moment to recall it all.
...
I've been whispering you
Happy Birthday
since ten years ago.
One decade seeing you grow
becoming the man you always
been wishing for.
Happy birthday my dear husband
and happy many years
together dancing.
I will continue to wake you up
in the middle of the night
to whisper softly
'Happy birthday Adrian!'
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 3:54 AM UTC
I've been searching for the longest time for a place to begin...
the life in which I should call mine, inspired by a hazy ora.
I find myself just jumping the gun
just looking to be done
with this search...oh when is it over?
To find independence and stability...
to find not the needle ,but a certain piece of hay within the hay stack.
The search to begin has happened over and over,
every time I think I've found it...
there I go pushed back to start, forced to start over.
Except I am not a piece of plastic within a board game
more like a hamster running on a wheel,but for what gain?
Once again finding a place to begin again...
a new set of friends inside of a new city...
I think to myself " LOL the fun never ends."
I set myself up,
pretending to be cautiously sober
from the depression that trapped me inside of such a hellish roller coaster.
As I begin to find a place to begin again,
here they come my father's words...shit..
"Just dig yourself out of the whole, that you've dug."
**** I wasn't supposed to remember that part!
...Not in my place to begin again.
I'll just have to retrace my steps...let's go back to the start
"I once was a girl with depression, but I decided to get over it through repression, and here we are today, not to remember your father's words of blame...don't remember that, it's not important." (Rant over)
A voice says: Hi, welcome back Adrian
this is your place to begin again
and if not...
Well it's about time depression left you dead.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
He stands before His Father's pride.
Asking for their approval,
But only anger circles in reply,
Their shameful critique deemed crucial.
As tears weep from poor Little King,
He runs from the cruel and forsaken,
But 'You still need me' His Father sings,
With one glance back, he is poorly mistaken.
-Adrian. H
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 10:23 PM UTC
she said we'd get through it together
get over him together
but now she's going to a movie with him,
and i am wearing someone else's sweatshirt and thinking of him
and his favorite movie.
it doesn't matter how many pills i take,
they will never change the face i see in the mirror.
sometimes i think i need to just get out of this town,
out of my own little head,
my own little hell.
and i guess i am happy
with him
when i am sitting in her kitchen
and eating mexican food.
but i guess
he will never like me.
because how can someone like you
when you don't even like yourself?
i'm chasing clouds,
endless daydreams,
turning into nightmares.
it's weird
how i feel fine
walking down the street
with jasper
but i don't feel fine
in my own house.
and sometimes, i think this is so normal.
and i go over to her house
and see the way she acts,
and i am reminded of reality.
the tension i feel in this house
isn't how families feel.
and the way my dad treats me
isn't how 'perfect' families work,
or even broken families.
and they wonder why justin never comes home.
she pierced her nose
and she's ruining our plans.
i'm stuck in this room,
the four walls hold stories that i will go to my grave with.
they soak in the things that i can only let out
when i am alone.
sometimes i wonder
why the **** it is worth it
to go through all this pain
for a few moments of illumination.
but then bereket grabs my face and kisses my nose,
my uncle hands me $20 because i want a latte
and my dad won't let me have one.
alex tells me my poetry is beautiful,
and all i can think is,
"if it is as beautiful as you think that i am
then i am ******
adrian says words
and ben lets me wear his sweatshirt.
justin leaves the garage door open
to never look back;
chloe ****** off her parents
to rebel against her own mind.
sometimes i want to curl up in a ball
and never wake up.
because going to school, to group therapy, to yoga,
why the hell is it worth it?
hours upon hours of an endless loop, brought on by my brain.
the way i feel in my heart
when i think of if i will ever make it,
if any one will ever want to love me,
or like me,
or tolerate me.
if he says my poetry is as beautiful as i am,
then i am ******
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
I could swear the way the men clustered around me after meeting they thought this below was a mere pretty fantasy....and perhaps you alone know differently, Adrian.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCIII)
Lo, how I hear the Beatles' cherished scale
Of "Yesterday--" 'non waltzing, like the sense
We know by instinct, though by Shakespeare thence
I thought to ink--what? cycling through the tale
Of prairie grasses blackbirds' rakish hail
Mocks? Or those blue skies cloud fluffs whitely fence
In lazy, um, battalions? Or from hence
As Will said, how I feel, likeas t'avail?
When you say "lacy," to ask me if your
Prompt, erm, hit home? And how I long to do--
Not home-made popsicles, nor when in tour
I lost my first tooth blowing up that new
Um, kiddie pool--but you know. Is it poor?
Cuz summer's so short-lived, but I love you.
05Jun17b
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 2:51 PM UTC
*08Jun17: probably Joe is done with me, Adrian assessed; my brother sez it is too fishy: "just forget it/him."
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXXXII)
How piquant notes of car'mel waft thin scents
Across this hollow silence like t'avail,
'Cept there's none to be had in sheer betrayl;
And blue skies wear soft white clouds with a sense
Of lazy calm winds flirt 'non through from hence,
Boughs nodding lightly as leaves whisper frail
Auld secrets to the listning ear, as pale
Light eyes these shadows which cavort, and whence?
Forsooth. They talk of la, the wedding, fer
Our questions: groom was "bro-force." Hope th'ado
Lasts until death, though couples think that poor
These days. And I cannot be sick of who
Just toy with me, cuz I'm forever your
Fool who oft use me thus. Yes, what is new?
08Jul17a
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC