"biodiversity" poems
Biodiversity, an abstract term used in natural science,
Meaning diversity of life in a diversity of places.
Tonight I really feel all the compliance,
With this term occuring in my life in so many cases.
I have both positive and negative associations,
If I relate biodiversity to my own life.
It kind of explains all the complications,
On the road to when and where I thrive.
When I look at myself in the mirror,
I see the diversity in my face.
Both soft like a mother and severe like an emperor,
And my hair looks like it's from another race.
It is curly and it is dark,
While my skin is quite pale.
Blue eyes which sometimes brightly spark,
But other times greyish and frail.
Some moments I feel hyper,
like I'm going to explode.
I talk, walk, jump and stir,
and my brain says 'overload'.
Other moments however I feel calm and peace,
I lay down just quietly watch the sun.
Concentrated on every breath I release,
A warm ambiance like that of a mum.
Some mornings I feel like I'm the sexiest girl on the planet,
I take a red dress and let it slip over my hips.
Walk on 15 cm heels like my feet are made of granite,
And merely hope to use my red coated lips.
Other times even my jogging pants don't seem to fit,
I feel like the uggliest girl in town and only see disgust.
I watch useless YouTube videos infinite,
Because everything else feels like a must.
I can go on with this poem for a long time,
But it makes no sense.
It is just that with this rhyme,
I put on paper the doubts, thoughts and experience.
The biodiversity in me,
I like it and I do not.
But what I more and more see,
Is a swarm of different butterflies rather than an intwined knot.
Life is so **** special,
Intense and deeply exciting.
I think it is crucial,
Not to do too much hiding.
Enjoy the biodiversity in yourself,
Like a beautiful forest on a hill.
So many different species,
Crowded, changing and intertwined, but together, still.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 8:21 AM UTC
Hey Human! I am your Sibling.
Queen bee wings are Ripped,
bee niblings are Smoked
For Your Honey Sweet.
Hey human! Listen your Sibling’s Buzz.
Tiger lost bones for Medicine,
Fox lost fur for Fashion,
Sharks lost fins for Soup.
Hey human! Do Not Butcher Siblings.
Simba’s life is not your Trophy,
Jumbo’s tusks are not Decors,
Helmets of Hornbills are not jewels.
Hey human! Do Not Reap Siblings.
Emperors of ice continent lost land,
Economics is making Amazon less,
Logging makes Orangutans homeless.
Hey human! Do Not Invade Siblings.
Warm oceans bleach corals,
Water depleted in cities,
We ingest plastic regularly.
Hey human! Do Not Desert the Earth.
Overfishing is holocaust of aquatic life,
Livestock levitates toxic emissions.
Hey human! Do Not Prey on Siblings.
Lichens stunned by pollution,
Symbionts are disintegrating,
Biodiversity is declining.
Hey human! Be Together with Siblings.
Hey Human! We are Offsprings of Mother Nature.
Monera, Animalia, Fungi, Plantae, Protista
all have common roots.
We are branches of the one Phylogenetic Tree
rooting Common Ancestry unto LUCA.
Hey Human! We are Siblings.
Hey Human! Recall your Siblings.
Hey Human! Revive your Siblings.
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 11:19 AM UTC
The Kingdom of Morocco has a rugged mountain interior which reminds me of the British meal of mince and potatoes. But hold that thought, and examine our seemingly superior Western legislation. Just like the pickle, the dynasty of death is a brazen festival percussionist who is celebratory in her bitter and gustatory inevitability. Jizyah is that taxation which is imposed upon those who fail to conform to those expected societal norms. Although we have the status quo, one cannot help but wonder what happened to the rectitudes of individuality and paradoxical equality? So, where do we go, oh navigator of the great and mighty West? Marrakech or Rabat? I have no concrete awareness of where solace is to be found. I am lost! Therefore, I can only offer the following direction: Contemplate the ever-changing intricacy of the dunes in anthropological amazement and acknowledge the sky at night. Allow the celestial pole of the North Star to speak to your deep uncertainty. Our purpose is openly displayed if we simply open our heart in the midst of our Bedouin oasis. That, my friend, is the essence of being psychosocial.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
Who will play the river and who will play ocean?
That is to be determined, although I can stretch farther than you.
Where freshwater and saltwater meet;
that will be our special place
where love can flourish.
Biodiversity has never been lovelier.
Let's hope that no dams keep you from coming in to me
and destroy our sanctuary-
our estuary.
But you know how it is these days.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
in the somatic nervous system,
acetylcholine (ACh) stimulates skeletal muscle, causing contraction
action potentials
in the 8am physio lecture,
the biggest on campus
crammed with nursing majors,
and health science hankerers,
public health preachers,
OT saints and angels
amino acid NTs: glutamate (+) GABA (-) aspartate (+) glycine (-)
the prof wrote on a distant whiteboard
too many complained about being lost
she made a joke about feeding *******
to mice for her neuroscience research
amines: serotonin (-) dopamine (-/+) norepinephrine (+/-) epinephrine (+)
STEM-dominated
when i'm just looking
to drop my roots
and press that
good earth into
the spaces between
my toes and
under my nails
but the grounds are a garden
of biodiversity from clippings
gathered by migrant habit-clad
founders more than a century ago
the soil is fertile it is temperate
there are water filters in most residences
there is enough here for me
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
In 1963
Mahalia prodded
the good reverend...
“tell them
about the dream
Martin”
transfixed on
a yonder time
he recounted
prophecies of
a near future
from a mountaintop
he foretold a
history of a people
returned again to
gardens of paradise
thriving in friendly
democratic soils
overflowing with a
colorful biodiversity
governed and
nurtured with a
vibrant sunshine
of divine justice
welcoming all
weary sojourners...
from the
pinnacle of
a Birmingham
jail cell
Martin burst
the bars with
the clarion peel
of a golden trumpet
proclaiming the gospel
of liberation to
the wardens of
unholy gulags
“free yourselves”
the horn emblazoned
in streaking lightning
across the sky
cowed by
prophetic truths
of righteousness,
shamed by
lies the pride
of arrogance
bespeaks to
placate the
intransigence
of dominion,
we prayed the
the walls of racism,
bigotry, prejudice
would tumble down as
Martin lit the Battle
of Jericho
today our country’s
profit driven gulags
overflow with people
of color as justice
lingers on death row
begging for a plea bargain
of a life sentence in
solitary confinement...
from the
****** Sunday Bridge
in Selma, Martin
offered a prayer for
peace, rebuking
the dogs of war
admonishing
the tenders of
blood thirsty
machines to
beat the gears
of war into
pruning hooks
and plowshares
advocates of peace
hope to steer
the plow across
the battlefields of
acrimony to sow
rich seeds of
reconciliation, planting
new gardens where
the rich yields of peace
will be consumed
by all God's children
yet these gardens
remain unplanted,
untended and defiled
by the machinery
of war that churns
churns, churns...
Martin last
dream occurred
on a balcony
in Memphis
witnessing
to the divinity
of those considered
untouchable after
a hard days work
collecting a city’s
refuse
he insisted all labor
was worthy of dignity
and the economic
justice of a fair wage
Martin looked squarely
into the eye of the gun sights
of those who thought differently
he never blinked, he dreamed
Martin formed his last
testament to an angry nation
yearning for the reconciliation
of stability and peace,
unmoved that it’s violence,
exploitation and bigotry only
stoke bonfires of acrimony
and division, condemning
the reprobate principality
to the bleakness of a
smoldering discontent and
continued generations
of recurring nightmares…
Martin's dream continues
in awakened hearts
sojourning on
Music Selection:
Mahalia Jackson
Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho
MLK Day
2014
Oakland
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
Inside the drainage basin
Bounding my soul
Fluid dynamics
Condense
Phases of water
Gather in the
Mountain towers
Over time
Gravity plus precipitation
Converts
Into snow pack
Come spring
That snow pack
Braids it's way down the mountain
Co-mingling with groundwater
Bubbling up in springs
Gathering momentum
In mountain streams
A constant conversion from
Potential to kinematic
Energy
Streams make their
Way into prairie rivers
Meandering along
Through riparian pockets
Of biodiversity
Reaching a levee
Then breaching
Local, national, and international boundaries
Are no match
As my soul
Finds it's way to base level
In the ocean of your love
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 7:15 AM UTC
If only we could begin again and slow down the pernicious pace
We ruin our oceans, the land, our air even outer space.
If only we avoided such precarious paths that may lead to disparity
If only we knew what action is needed now, to deal with the reality.
Ecologists warned, yet still observe with ever-growing anxiety
the growth of harmful long-term effects on Earth's biodiversity.
If only the air wasn't gravely polluted, so the atmosphere begins to fail,
so wreathed by carbon dioxide layers, extremes to climate may prevail.
If only Earth's lungs cease being shrunk by profits heedless exploitation,
existing relationships are considered scarcely in these aberrations.
If only a solution for discarded synthetics which float in ugly hordes
on oceans global drifts, disaster occurs wherever it reaches landfall.
If only we can do something, a belated but resounding universal call,
If only we can safeguard the future before there are no options at all.
If only we could begin again and slow the ruinous pace... if only
If Only
M C Crowder
@scorsby
19th November 2018
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
So,
now they want a debate after
they got us in this hell of a state.
The knock on the door,
'Labour does more'.
'Preserve the Conservative, go with the flow',
The Greens don't you know want the whole ****** country to grow,
biodiversity?
are there no limits to what we can be?.
Well,
you can all **** orf
take your policies and shove 'em
I've made up my mind to grind up manifestos
plant them in pots and see what grows from them.
Probably tulips or grey men
Nothing will change whoever gets in
whoever's first past the trough they all stop to
dip in,
they're all of the same, using us by
confusing us by using a different name.
But I'll wait and then see on the BBC
Who's going to be the new 'pope',
whoever it is
there's no hope,
I'll still be poor.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
I must take note,
of how the people lie,
their dastardly twists and turns,
their shifting and conflicting emotions,
spiraling out of C O N T R O L,
their faces grim, as the enigma is made,
they paradoxed their words and actions, and all I,
and all I am for, it a laughter under my mask.
I must take note,
for if I don't, I won't be able to detect a group's actions,
they could cause the destruction of my dynasty,
I had set up in my mind,
I deliberately made a world of hope for those who need it,
I who is king, I who is God,
I, who is the only citizen,
they must not find out, and corrupt it,
for I will go hysterical.
I must take note,
of the weather,
what makes the spherical mass in space,
and the biodiversity in it continue to go forward,
for the blades of grass that cut me like a knife,
or the indifference of the flowers lovers give to us,
or the emotions, the physical strain,
that is made within the weather,
how my bones ache in the sun,
and how my emotions contrast in the rain.
I must take not,
or I shall parish,
or I shall meet my demise,
whether it be at the hands of the blades of grass,
or the conspiracies made from the liars,
or the people,
for I will meet my expiry,
the storybooks have told me so.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
time changes
and I realize the world needs my LOVE.
so I want to write more love poems
and infect heartstreams,
bursting valve seams, repairing flows.
carrying capacities need expanding,
deep breath felt.
simplicities stacking, and all else is.
decension, the reflection of ascension,
is being dug.
the perspective has always been from above.
time to root down, bury down, dig deep
in the ground and bring the LOVE down.
in the darker side, where light struggles sometimes,
here, this minor level, that many feel is
real,
this place needs the panting of love
to be rained down.
souls duped to believe
evil is abound.
cycles are always dark and light
and layers are thin.
pay closer attention to the place
where to the two meet again,
that point, moment, peace.
listen to its speech, the flow of a new
sprout on a tree,
the fungus sprawl through its wood.
stretching its love from underground,
above, to feed and seed and heed
the lessons here.
biodiversity, nourishment, interdependence,
just being loving. nurturing,
to your self, the total inclusiveness...
our carry capacity for LOVE is infinity.
eights will flow infinitely, so we just let it be,
walk easily, stop and discover those on our path.
discover the magic of home.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
I must take note,
of how the people lie,
their dastardly twists and turns,
their shifting and conflicting emotions,
spiraling out of C O N T R O L,
their faces grim, as the enigma is made,
they paradoxed their words and actions, and all I,
and all I am for, it a laughter under my mask.
I must take note,
for if I don't, I won't be able to detect a group's actions,
they could cause the destruction of my dynasty,
I had set up in my mind,
I deliberately made a world of hope for those who need it,
I who is king, I who is God,
I, who is the only citizen,
they must not find out, and corrupt it,
for I will go hysterical.
I must take note,
of the weather,
what makes the spherical mass in space,
and the biodiversity in it continue to go forward,
for the blades of grass that cut me like a knife,
or the indifference of the flowers lovers give to us,
or the emotions, the physical strain,
that is made within the weather,
how my bones ache in the sun,
and how my emotions contrast in the rain.
I must take note,
or I shall parish,
or I shall meet my demise,
whether it be at the hands of the blades of grass,
or the conspiracies made from the liars,
or the people,
for I will meet my expiry,
the storybooks have told me so.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
burning rain forests
wild animals with shrinking space to live
growing air pollution
smog in major cities
more than 3,5 million deaths
due to respiratory diseases
global warming
new insects and other beasties
in the formerly cooler regions
extreme hurricanes rainstorms heatwaves
excessive use of fertilizers by agro-industries
bees are dying
blossoms are left unpollinated
biodiversity is in a flat spin
deserts keep growing globally
fossile fuels are still polluting the air
curious dolphins die in the water of the Thames
after so far hundreds of thousands died of Covid-19
it is high time to see the larger picture
to comprehend interactive phenomena
the pandemic brought earth a little recovery time
the waters have cleared
you can actually see fish in the canals of Venice
satellite pictures show clear air over metropolises
suggesting: the new normality after the pandemic
must be significantly different from the old one
do we really need hundreds of thousands to die?
does it need a virus for us to understand
that we need a different relationship to nature?!!
May 18, 2020
May 18, 2020 at 2:22 PM UTC
This car was Professor Forster's of the Christian system.
Unexpected biodiversity, first time, break time,
friendly life, first powder, ****** sophism,
smile, ingredients, cool frost, teddy bear, t-shirt;
Noah's worries, love, hilly hill,
mountains, bird flu, green, black and black.
The first number of beautiful characters falls
in black spots. Native English, speaking English
in William William in many ways,
cannot control black body features.
There are three cities in the city
and three sisters in the White Cities.
At night, my son, the dragon is red,
my life has lost a Russian girl in a world without corruption.
In the eighth year of the aircraft, aircraft eyes,
drinking water, birds and animals were used
for heavy aircraft. Mountain hills are the glory
of the mountain, the sacraments of the prophets
and darkness; Comments - William William's beautiful
mother William William died in English, and was afraid
of a lot of things like Asia-Pacific, black and white.
The new gear was made in 3 steps
and was sent to the city. At night, my son,
the dragon is red, my life has lost a Russian girl
in a world without corruption. The parent program
finds the same plane or black, white and white girl.
Star Stars star stars Sun Star Tara Tara always
changes the sun, royal roots and three romantic
citizens of truth. Romantic romantic romantic
romantic romantic; "Maya's house, which in the Middle Ages
wants to find spirituality, Julia is a small Latin lake,
Jesus dress, applause, Amy, wall, strike, instrument,
literature, giraffe, behavior," "word, tree,"
modern contemporary literature Jupiter, for example.
Dragon N Sky Sky Sky, Ritter B warns of unique
neurotransmitters, a delicate soft secret,
a dream of dreams, sandwich sandwiches,
basically an ijaqaela prophet leaves and loses an angel and gum.
This car is Professor Forster of Christian theology.
Different unexpected events, first days, holidays,
friendships, the first spot, ****** sophism, humor,
food, cool air, teddy meat, shirt; Noah's anxiety,
love, mountains, mountains, injuries, green, black and black.
The first number of beautiful manuscripts
fell on the black. Native English, English
and William William in many ways,
cannot control physical characteristics.
There are three cities in the city
and three sisters in White Cities.
At night, my son, the red dragon,
my life has killed a Russian woman
in the world without a defect.
In the eighth year of the plane,
airplane, eyes, drinking water,
birds and animals use heavy cargo.
The mountainous mountains
are the glory of the mountains,
the sacramental of prophets
and darkness;
Report - William William's beautiful mother
William William died in English,
and she feared many things like Asia
and the Pacific black and white.
The new machinery is used in 3 and sent to the city.
At night, my son, the red dragon,
my life has killed a Russian woman
in the world without a defect.
The parents' way of seeing a plane
or black and white baby. Star Star star Sun Star
Tarot and Tara are changing the sun,
the royal roots and three indigenous facts.
Romantic romantic
romantic romantic romantic; "The ancient
Maya buildings seek to find spirituality,
Julia is in a small Latin pool,
Jesus' garment, boxing, Amy, walls, armor,
weapons, literature, farm, practice," "words,
plants, "for example, Jupiter. Dragon N the Sky
Sky Sky, Ritter B warns of specialized online
observers secrets are soft, dream dreams
of sandwiches sandwiches, which is that
the prophet is going to go to war
and an angel is lost.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 12:13 AM UTC
Matthew Scott Harris (the second offspring
and only son of Boyce and the late harriet harris)
made his unheralded debut on a brutally cold
January thirteenth.
Once awareness blossomed
within thee Iris of each eye, Mother Nature with
proclivity to become most grounded when basking
in the seasonal pastel of sounds and smells.
This predilection a rose and stemmed from self-propelled
exposure to fauna and flora.
All creatures great and small found him bedazzled, de
lighted, fixated, harmonized, kindled, moored, ogled, quelled,
seduced, tantalized, vaunted from biodiversity.
His father - employed as a mechanical engineer with
general electric - heard the powerful lungs of this gangly new
born prior to being permitted to cradle said infant.
Born in Cincinnati, Ohio, this sole son spent the majority
of his existence at two rural areas fifty plus four years ago.
Audubon and Collegeville the geographic names of said locales.
His ability to adjust from one than another grade school evinced
early signs of difficulty.
Extreme shyness in tandem with a congenital speech defect (sub
mucous cleft palate) seemed to alienate him from other classmates.
As an outside neutral observer, i watched with gut wrenching agony how he seemed socially detached and rarely invited to join in any reindeer games.
Yes, a gross degree of taunting left him without friends.
Lack of confidence and ultra reticence offered manna to bullies.
Matter of fact, this vulnerability and susceptibility being
the pluperfect target, thee oafish goons i.e. enemies all against
a once upon a time puny punt able person unfortunately at
receiving end of verbal slings continued all thru public education.
He graduated without any vocational idea (despite an ignoble
attempt to fail - and yet got promoted nonetheless), and then endured parental wrath equal ultimatums with scathing expletive filled lectures.
The absence of clear-cut goals found him enrolling and withdrawing
from countless colleges and/or universities.
Delay with interpersonal success accompanied like a dark shadow creeping closer like the edge of night.
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 11:46 PM UTC
You remind me of a trumpet;
Loud, obnoxious, the problem to my experiment
Even George Washington wouldn't fight wars with you
Your roles make me go mad
Like a triangle's constant ringing in my head
"Get out of my hair!" shrills Donald Trump
As the war drums beacons in the distance
My observation seems nasty,
But its true.
This directrix that we are going though? It ain't working out.
Not even Harriet Tubman can guide my way out of your sight.
Our relationship is like a missing glucose in our photosynthesis;
You're killing the plant inside of us.
Can't you see our rose is dying?
It's falling into the devil's hands.
He manipulates and conjoins our relationship, not giving a care in the world.
I had a dream, just like Martin Luther King
But my dream is different.
You see, my dream is full of hope
Hopes for me to help you
Help you get out of this predicament
This natural selection is killing me
But instead, you pushed me away
You subtracted me out of your life
Its painful, it tears me apart
Even though I can lose track of my focus point and become an annoyance,
I would give up everything just to fix you
Your biodiversity is completely disarray
The cells in your body have lost its purpose
I'm cold and distant, but I can't stand seeing you like this
Please don't leave me so empty handed
My heart used to beat like a bongo when you were around
Now it's just the pitter patter of the cold, sad rain
Every time I hear your guitar, it no longer fills me with joy.
All I feel is disgust and sadness
I might ignore you and act rude, but secretly, this is all just a ruse.
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 10:59 AM UTC
My heart is a bank
Of your treasury
You're the fauna
Of heart's biodiversity
The stars crept into Windows
The Moon started shying
The valleys got their lost chaos
Reluctantly or otherwise
Wish you the greatest years ahead
And the Happiest and Blessed Birthday
Yeah...As usual... belated...
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 9:47 AM UTC
Fire ruined
Almost everything
To ashes
With a
quick glance
And destroyed
the lives
Of thousand animals
Even though some
Rescued gracefully
With the
helping hands
Of God’s love
And the
Panic situation
Settled only
After a blessed rain
That rain
Helped to
Quench the fire
And healed
Thousands of
Wounded hearts
Again
Slowly
It started to recover
By the wet land
And those trees
Started budding
And making
Its leaves
By filling
The holes of
Ruined land
With the
Wholly vibes of
Pleasant nature
That soothes
Every soul
To live and
Love the land
Once again
With its mesmerising
Scenic beauties
To feel
Grateful for
And giving a
Remembrance
To maintain our
Biodiversity
By enhancing
the greenery
To enrich our
Flora and fauna
With a balanced
Ecosystem
Jan 23, 2020
Jan 23, 2020 at 6:19 PM UTC
Cold empty chrysalis
And pig slop -
Suckle the hearthfire **** of mother earth
we praise ourselves on being diverse
but we are the biodiversity,
spread so thin we can't nourish the hungry and thirsty.
The pale moon shines on a world somehow even colder,
we consume the birthday cake leaving only the smoulders,
Built monuments and towers to a false kind of power,
mycellium clouds bloom come to consume what is ours,
The midnight clock ticking to doomsday, now minutes from hours.
We believe that we control the elements, but loom they,
The ancient forces come soon to smother and cover in dirt
this mausoleum soon to be crematorium Earth.
And when the smoke clears and lifted is the haze
I dream of a peace on Earth without the human race.
Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 10:28 AM UTC
The light comes in with early morning dew
They wake to a dim world
A world tormented by ****** and chaos
Yet they still get up everyday
Everyone else does
We have no other choice
The spiral seems to never end as we detest and crumble
We are against ourselves
Nature has begun to rebel
We have stayed too long
We have been too far
We have broken the rules not made by us
But by something bigger than we could ever be
And it is angry
We are the cause of destruction
We have disrupted the natural order of things
We were never meant to become this
But even as we change and grow exponentially
We fail to look back at our shortcomings
In this we repeat our mistakes again and again
We used to have gods to talk to
But we have killed them all in exchange for the quick and easy
We left this hole
Now instead of biodiversity in every sense of the word
We have chains
Chain restaurants
Chain stores
Chain crops
Chain religion
Chain mindset
We have readily accepted being shackled into an unforgiving world
We have blinded ourselves with screens because its easier to see the truth from a lense that seperates emotion from meaning
But who am I to so judge
I myself accept these chains because it does make life easier
For now
Thats the catch
The for now
Soon enough what makes life easier will actually make life incredibly harder as nature changes in an order to **** us
When you only have 1 type of corn, what do you do when a disease kills it all
When you force antibiotics down your throat for every slight inconvince, what do you do when they stop working
Nature is evolving to **** us off
And our stupid decisions are paving the way
Money makes the world go round
And global warming makes it tilt off it’s axis
Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 10:33 PM UTC
What use was this creation,
If it delivered boastful, vain, narcissism and loveless, black depression?
If it is directing decision making from biological, human intelligence to unemotional, artificial intelligence?
If it is drowning azure, Polynesian islands and raising polymeric, garbage archipelagos?
If Amazon is no more a forest of lush, stunning biodiversity
but a world wide jungle of objects to be consumed?
If “this piece of work, man”, “the quintessence of dust”, is
the CREATOR of utter, hydrogen destruction, capable of annihilating any form of life seven times in a row?
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 5:22 AM UTC