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"cladding" poems
Who needs terrorists? They are redundant When over 60 poor people Can perish In a raging inferno Caused by their own council. For years the resident action group Were poo pooed by the authorities With, “Don’t worry your pretty heads!” When they warned about fire safety regulations Being ignored Just like them. No sprinklers and only one fire escape In a twenty four storey building. Only last year the tower was refurbished With cheap plastic cladding that’s Banned in the USA. Our prime minister has been accused Of failing to show humanity By only visiting the Emergency Services To avoid the angry public. All this has happened Not in some God forsaken third world country But in the fifth or sixth richest economy In the world. For sure, that all engulfing tower-fire Has made the blood of the people Boil. Let’s hope this volcano does not erupt Like the one that caused The London Riots of 2011. Let’s hope our administration At all its levels Learns something from this: To Care for its People. Paul Butters
0
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 5:51 AM UTC
Grenfell Tower UK
I grieve for you in the cold quiet of winter My absent child, my long lost son Warming my hands over dying flames, frost covered smouldering clinker, By the wood where icy streams run Through the shrunken sedge, and barren fields Stretching for miles, empty of meaning. The landscape like a worn photograph yields Your tremulous smile, then nothing. Here, you ran with startled steps Through the yielding sheaves, yelling with surprise, Chasing indifferent spiders, and discomfited birds With hatred in their pebble pool-dark eyes. Querying awkwardly spoken words, small Tenacious fingers that caress and clutch Every passing object, loudly chuckling, wisely playing me for a fool A silly father who loved too much. On the anniversary of your leaving I required solitude Partnered only by memory Away from familiar crowds, the booming, barking fusillade Of the present day commonplace urban itinerary, Where only the crackle of snow And the fleeting trajectory of birds Distracts my slow Marshalling of comforting thoughts. The cottage where we lived haunts the shallow glade, A shrouded ghost swaddled by the half-light, Positioned squarely like an old man, its cladding beginning to fade, White branches like dead-fingers that gleam in the night. In the closet are your dust-sprinkled toys, a yellow plastic duck, A cheap skateboard, ancient video games, A guitar you never learnt to pluck A chess board on which you pulverised my endgames. In the preserved furnishings of your bedroom Your school work gathered into stacks Barely visible in the gloom, Our life together in disorganised packs Denoting year and level Development and academic achievement, If any, (but I mustn’t once again cavil) Indicating, even in your earliest years, a specific bent. Standing on the mantelpiece, propped up against the wall, Are brightly coloured, polished pictures Of you. Plump, blonde, agreeably small Dancing, standing, jumping, grinning, absurdly wistful mixtures. A bitter echo resonating from the shadows A cold thought darkening into memory The spectre of your voice disappearing in the meadows Having left all of us! Having left me!
0
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
LOST
I grieve for you in the cold quiet of winter My absent child, my long lost son Warming my hands over dying flames, frost covered smouldering clinker, By the wood where icy streams run Through the shrunken sedge, and barren fields Stretching for miles, empty of meaning. The landscape like a worn photograph yields Your tremulous smile, then nothing. Here, you ran with startled steps Through the yielding sheaves, yelling with surprise, Chasing indifferent spiders, and discomfited birds With hatred in their pebble pool-dark eyes. Querying awkwardly spoken words, small Tenacious fingers that caress and clutch Every passing object, loudly chuckling, wisely playing me for a fool A silly father who loved too much. On the anniversary of your leaving I required solitude Partnered only by memory Away from familiar crowds, the booming, barking fusillade Of the present day commonplace urban itinerary, Where only the crackle of snow And the fleeting trajectory of birds Distracts my slow Marshalling of comforting thoughts. The cottage where we lived haunts the shallow glade, A shrouded ghost swaddled by the half-light, Positioned squarely like an old man, its cladding beginning to fade, White branches like dead-fingers that gleam in the night. In the closet are your dust-sprinkled toys, a yellow plastic duck, A cheap skateboard, ancient video games, A guitar you never learnt to pluck A chess board on which you pulverised my endgames. In the preserved furnishings of your bedroom Your school work gathered into stacks Barely visible in the gloom, Our life together in disorganised packs Denoting year and level Development and academic achievement, If any, (but I mustn’t once again cavil) Indicating, even in your earliest years, a specific bent. Standing on the mantelpiece, propped up against the wall, Are brightly coloured, polished pictures Of you. Plump, blonde, agreeably small Dancing, standing, jumping, grinning, absurdly wistful mixtures. A bitter echo resonating from the shadows A cold thought darkening into memory The spectre of your voice disappearing in the meadows Having left all of us! Having left me!
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48
Don't talk to me Ye vanity Cladding truth in urbanity Expressions left to emojis For Conversations we type Reassuring through selfies Relationships through swipes Get drenched in rain Get scorched in Sun Quiver once in a while in pain Drain out after a run Get in a fight in real Burst off of sorrow Then you ll know what matters It's today not tomorrow Let go Let go O please Let go The veneer of sophistication The hope of impression Smiling through frustration And short term-fad salvation And if not Never blame it on generation For We took the turns and We paved the path We are here for what we chose And we only ll be wondering at last we always had a choice Always...
0
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 7:26 AM UTC
Let's face it
Rubber soled trainers broke the brick Like the boom of the people tether the streets Tight strapped caps wander and roam Strolling the daylight for a place of their own Screeching and whirring filling the room Monoxide smog frogs that cling to their moulds We the people; hardened in soul A splash in the distance tearing a hole Enoch and Edna turn in their grave Darkened cobble flattened; all glazed Mirrors and cladding click into place A village that weeps, constant refined Express the formidable now done and alone Never your own EST marks the alleys; so nuanced, so cool If you knew the truth; that's a tenner! You fool
0
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 5:18 AM UTC
Bulldozer
The wind chilled the dead pigeons the chimney had long been dormant, if they had lain elsewhere their beaks would carried the seeds of change, yet the graded storeys were never condemned as long as the Portland stone cladding was not too evasive, growls from under the porridge table  by the occasioned Ginger spared these absurd notions
0
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 4:38 PM UTC
Light Sounds
servicemen ingested the wrath, leaching through unsuspecting bodies in a time capsule it sat in idleness, waiting to affect their aged bodies no safeguards were in place, the testing went on without accountability the red dust of the outback irradiated, protective cladding not on bodies years later cancers were reported, nuclear particles ratcheting up damaging the organs and bones, in frail manner were their bodies a mushroom cloud hung low, the aftermath of British testing the servicemen but lab rats, no one had regard for these bodies friendly fire came to Australia, back in the nineteen fifties Maralinga a tragedy in the making, its dire fallout stayed in bodies
0
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Maralinga (Ghazal Poem)
blame can be apportioned on the landlord's back a cladding of inferior quality wrapped his building's stack flames quickly engulfed all the floor levels tenants were trapped on such unsafe bevels what chance did they stand in getting out of the tower a cheap Chinese covering encasing their bower deaths were assured by faulty material much loved ones lives seemingly immaterial construction standards perished with the smoke slack council regulations a legislative choke
0
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 7:18 PM UTC
Blame
It's finally spring my love. The false promise of renewal, hope and dreams that survived the stark of winter war. And once again like a zillion times before, my mind lingers on you - my bedraggled knight. Still reminiscing the insincere but oh so seductive cooing of your words whispered in desperate passion. But every time the timbre of that poetic song dig into the marrow of my withering bones, the ruthless but absolutely honest voice of it all - my taunting, yet ever loyal sidekick - distrust kicks back and tell me in the clearest chime of unwedding bells, that it was never real. No love for real, how hard I wanted to believe. Believe my heart's quest always. Pounded down by the utmost power of knowing. Taking down shimmering gates of roses and mashing them all into a weeping horrified pile of compost. Where no new flowers will ever grow. Fodder for black snails and spiders to feast upon, in eager anticipation to reach deep down, to devour the terrified, bleeding heart that’s buried in its rubble. And the iron armor cladding my spiritual self builds stronger every day. Polished and unbuckled. Continuously fortifying or imprisoning me. I move in the world effortlessly, not one soul seeing the tons of heavy metal that weighs down my skinless flesh. Bedraggled knight, who do not know that he still hold my fortress - my heart. And with just one wink of the white flag would take it all down in a rumble of tears.
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 2:19 PM UTC
Ode to the dark knight
cladding of a miniature kite flying low nearly raking treetops figuring out all the stupid crap apps vying for attention flashing waste of unnecessary things peck.. peck.. at indulge crumbs left berried stalks on a pavement deep fried horror slow ingest impoverished smiles answer sewer cracks sift through detritus of sea sludge trickery wishes weeded out by force probe eyes drill into sunbaked back from across wrenching chasm scream tearing of brown paper heard from toothless vagrant hide a peek into auburnt stuck starfish stand on violent edge treble want not nearly seen rocking wicker chair on solid balcony light breeze fondles sweated head curls o'oblivion study of gripping truth I place within your palm a miniature__kite of such extent its face can be hid forever within the depths of you
0
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 8:21 AM UTC
miniature_kite
see the sky ..... cladding my dreams... see the night... hovering my thoughts.... see the stars... smoothing my mane.... see the breeze... shuffling my curls.... see the clouds.... tickling my feet.... see myself..... gliding through them all...
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
hovering dreams...
west london fire stories stories i can't finish you are in this story what's the problem called when the sun is coming up and you've been awake all night because ugly sleep sleeps all day, and the groom's ******* are too large for his beard someone said no to reality someone put the greed in poverty but what can i say, what can i say forgot who i was long ago don't like who i am today my back was turned when the rainproof cladding of grenfell tower fell while the london fire burned cheap, chinese, and rainproof that's how the rainproof cladding of grenfell tower fell
0
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 8:43 AM UTC
pride
The Souls of Grenfell Tower 1 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls did not depart in vain. 2 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls have been chosen from amongst other souls 3 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls have been returned in the best of months, Ramadan 4 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for God descended to listen to their final utters of prayer 5 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their blissful souls reiterated the peacefulness of 2 billion others 6 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for they proved, pried upon practicing pupils, prevent further terror and tragedy 7 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for in June, they indeed sealed the end of May 8 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls showed the tweeting real duck, Londoners Khan all break fast together 9 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for they led Britain's conversation and distanced Hatie and her fallen solutions 10 Grieve not, dear families of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls invited pleasant lilies, with beautiful oras, and the most famous of hellos - Salaam 11 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for they ignited the indigestion of cladding, in lowly aristocrats and their tory toys 12 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for Martyrdom was their end to a new beginning 13 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for God has granted them Gardens of Eden.
0
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 7:39 PM UTC
The Souls of Grenfell Tower
The Souls of Grenfell Tower 1 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls did not depart in vain. 2 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls have been chosen from amongst other souls 3 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls have been returned in the best of months, Ramadan 4 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for God descended to listen to their final utters of prayer 5 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their blissful souls reiterated the peacefulness of 2 billion others 6 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for they proved, pried upon practicing pupils, prevent further terror and tragedy 7 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for in June, they indeed sealed the end of May 8 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls showed the tweeting real duck, Londoners Khan all break fast together 9 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for they led Britain's conversation and distanced Hatie and her fallen solutions 10 Grieve not, dear families of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for their souls invited pleasant lilies, with beautiful oras, and the most famous of hellos - Salaam 11 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for they ignited the indigestion of cladding, in lowly aristocrats and their tory toys 12 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for Martyrdom was their end to a new beginning 13 Grieve not, dear families, of the souls of Grenfell Tower, for God has granted them Gardens of Eden.
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14
sat in the back seat, watching the hills cladding SH2 go by, with a tightened silence all over my face, couldn't help reflect: sometimes it digs deep down into me, thinking of all the conceptions planned out that i was considered to have aligned with, but can't bring myself to think the same. to what degree am i the image of failure in all my leader's and follower's books? all simply for abiding by ideologies that seem to occur naturally. but, am i failing myself and, transitively, failing more critically henceforth, if i disavow my own convictions for sake of demonstrating love to those i care the most for? is it worse to disappoint my parents, who've thrown large parts of their lives to the wind for my sake; my friends, who've laid down their loyalty for knowing, mutually assured, that collectively our virtues are assured; to weaken strength or trust in other's eyes for the sake of my own moral solidification? or to let my very self evaporate slowly away, a puddle left out under the bright light pouring from their hearts?
0
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
disappointer (1)
Oh Light, you travel so fast, invisibly cladding this planet in change which nothing can hinder, altering colourless night-hue you, in an eye's flick gilt sea's face, reveal distance, you, more than that touch land in filigree-silver, melting black fingers of mist netting dune's grass and more than that, your whispers to unfolding flora in still-dark corners make numberless petals succumb to your calls, sensuous fur feels your warming as feathery sleep blinks in readiness to dawn's breezy ruffles for morning stirs wings, fins stretch in watery beds and more than that, humanity worldwide yawns at your warning of lullaby's finish and shakes off drowse to see how labour for hours ahead, can be a life-giving force with daylight's ready aid, more than that each sunset aims to put end to your daily performance but not before that glittering exit, the show of best-rays taking central stage after which Oh Light, you sink slowly back into your secret abyss and wait, for more than unthinkable would be life's disastrous lack if your worthy entrance it's cue ever missed, and for this, every earthling human or otherwise relaxes while offering sighs of meant thanks. to Light and to its Creator.
0
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 8:14 AM UTC
Meant Thanks.
LONDON HAS HAD TERROR BUT WITHOUT THE DESIRE PEOPLE HAVE BEEN KILLED IN A HORRIFIC BUILDING FIRE WHERE WERE THE BUILDING CODES THAT KEPT THESE PEOPLE SECURE IT WAS A CLADDING SCANDAL THAT CAUSED THE FIRE TO ENDURE WHEN WILL THE OWNERS OF THESE BUILDINGS LEARN TO PROTECT THE PEOPLE INSIDE INSTEAD OF CUTTING CORNERS AND ALWAYS TRYING TO HIDE WHEN THERE IS INADEQUATE SAFETY A DISASTER WILL EFFECT THE PEOPLE WITHIN NOW HEARTS ARE BROKEN MANY LIVES ARE LOST THE OWNERS ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS SIN.
0
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 9:03 AM UTC
RESPONSIBILITY
Oh Light, you travel so fast, invisibly cladding this planet in change which nothing can hinder, altering colourless night-hue you, in an eye's flick gilt sea's face, reveal distance, you, more than that touch land in filigree-silver, melting black fingers of mist netting dune's grass and more than that, your whispers to unfolding flora in still-dark corners make numberless petals succumb to your calls, sensuous fur feels your warming as feathery sleep blinks in readiness to dawn's breezy ruffles for morning stirs wings, fins stretch in watery beds and more than that, humanity worldwide yawns at your warning of lullaby's finish and shakes off drowse to see how labour for hours ahead, can be a life-giving force with daylight's ready aid, more than that each sunset aims to put end to your daily performance but not before that glittering exit, the show of best-rays taking central stage after which Oh Light, you sink slowly back into your secret abyss and wait, for more than unthinkable would be life's disastrous lack if your worthy entrance it's cue ever missed, and for this, every earthling human or otherwise relaxes while offering sighs of meant thanks. to Light and to its Creator.
0
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 5:54 AM UTC
Meant Thanks.
winter cocooned the colorful buds of spring in a white cladding
0
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
Haiku
So Just Like My Namesake... In... “ The Great Escape “... I’m The King of... The Cooler... !!!!! Kinda Like... " Rick The Ruler ".... A TRUE School Type Mover... TOP NOTCH Rhyme Producer... !!! With Tunes That Are Cooler... Than McQueen In His Scenes... As Yup... " Virgil Hiltz "... Showing Nazis I CHILL... When They Try To Instil... Ideals That Spread War... Where Division’s The Cause... Because I Stay COOLER... Than Yes... " Ferris Bueller’ ".... !!! When It Comes To These Tutors... Whose Thoughts Should Be..... ....... NEUTERED....... !!!!! That’s Right NULLIFIED.... !!!!! Just Like Norton’s Guy.... And American Types.... Whose Actions DEFY.... REJECTION of FIGHTS... Because They’re Still TIED.... To... SUPREMACIST Minds.... !!!!!! Whose Vibe’s To *** - ide... Based Upon Colour Lines... !?! While I Deal In Vibes.... Where Tribes UNIFY... !!!!! No Matter What Colour... Or **** They STAND BY... !!! Because I Am COOLER.... Than... Racist Wrongdoers... !!!!! I Move With MORE Coolness... Than Those Who Pull Shooters... !!!! ... MILITANT Armies.... Like Those In Zimbabwe... Now OUSTING Mugabe... !!!!! Political Parties..... Who DO NOT Move Calmly... !!! So I’m Cooler Than THEM... !!!!! These Government Heads... Who Cause Heads PROBLEMS... !!! As Well As... DISTRESS... !!!!! Because They Use POWER... !!! To Use Cladding That Showers... Like... EXPLOSIVE Gunpowder... !!! So I’m COOLER Than Towers.... That In Just A Few Hours... !!!!!!!! Became HOTTER Than Plotters... Whose Movements Get HOTTER... Than.... SUICIDE BOMBERS... !!!!! I’m The COOLEST of Jotters... About All This NONSENSE.... !!! ABUSERS Whose Movements... HOT UP... Certain Collars... !!!!! Who Took Time To... HOLLA'... About How They BOTHERED... ?!? Producers And Movers.... Who Seem To NEED... “ Coolers “... !!!?!!! To CONTROL Their LOOSENESS... !!!!! However Some Coolness... Is NEEDED Like Shrewdness... When It Comes To The CLAIMS... That Are Made Nowadays... ... SO MANY Games... !!! That People Now Play... !!!!! The Type That Have RACKETS... And Strings That Pull Jackets... !!! On Puppets And Slaves... Who Seem To Get Brave.... When It’s LATE In The day.... !!!!! To REFUTERS I Say... CALM DOWN Now Okay... !!! I Suggest You Stay COOLER... Than London’s Commuters... When TERROR Becomes.... What HITS It’s Stations... !!!!!! Or Cooler Than COUGARS... Who Move Like SEDUCERS... When Their ONLY Future... Is *** With OLD Suitors ... Boozers And Schmoozers'... !!! Whose ***** LOST IT’s Rooster.... !?!?! So NEEDS To Use BOOSTERS... Like..... ****** Users.... !!!!!! As I Said... This Poem... Should PROVE I’m NO LOSER... !!!!! I’m Just A Producer... of Rhymes That Are Shrewder... Than SCOOTER Type Looters... !!!!! Who’s... SICKER Than TUMOURS... !!!!! And Like... " Steve McQueen "... When It Comes To Rhyme Schemes... Don’t Let The Rest FOOL YA.... !!!!! I’m THE KING of What’s... ........ “ COOLER “.......
0
Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 1:09 AM UTC
'Cooler' ... A Poem written by Big Virge 20/11/2017
So Just Like My Namesake... In... “ The Great Escape “... I’m The King of... The Cooler... !!!!! Kinda Like... " Rick The Ruler ".... A TRUE School Type Mover... TOP NOTCH Rhyme Producer... !!! With Tunes That Are Cooler... Than McQueen In His Scenes... As Yup... " Virgil Hiltz "... Showing Nazis I CHILL... When They Try To Instil... Ideals That Spread War... Where Division’s The Cause... Because I Stay COOLER... Than Yes... " Ferris Bueller’ ".... !!! When It Comes To These Tutors... Whose Thoughts Should Be..... ....... NEUTERED....... !!!!! That’s Right NULLIFIED.... !!!!! Just Like Norton’s Guy.... And American Types.... Whose Actions DEFY.... REJECTION of FIGHTS... Because They’re Still TIED.... To... SUPREMACIST Minds.... !!!!!! Whose Vibe’s To *** - ide... Based Upon Colour Lines... !?! While I Deal In Vibes.... Where Tribes UNIFY... !!!!! No Matter What Colour... Or **** They STAND BY... !!! Because I Am COOLER.... Than... Racist Wrongdoers... !!!!! I Move With MORE Coolness... Than Those Who Pull Shooters... !!!! ... MILITANT Armies.... Like Those In Zimbabwe... Now OUSTING Mugabe... !!!!! Political Parties..... Who DO NOT Move Calmly... !!! So I’m Cooler Than THEM... !!!!! These Government Heads... Who Cause Heads PROBLEMS... !!! As Well As... DISTRESS... !!!!! Because They Use POWER... !!! To Use Cladding That Showers... Like... EXPLOSIVE Gunpowder... !!! So I’m COOLER Than Towers.... That In Just A Few Hours... !!!!!!!! Became HOTTER Than Plotters... Whose Movements Get HOTTER... Than.... SUICIDE BOMBERS... !!!!! I’m The COOLEST of Jotters... About All This NONSENSE.... !!! ABUSERS Whose Movements... HOT UP... Certain Collars... !!!!! Who Took Time To... HOLLA'... About How They BOTHERED... ?!? Producers And Movers.... Who Seem To NEED... “ Coolers “... !!!?!!! To CONTROL Their LOOSENESS... !!!!! However Some Coolness... Is NEEDED Like Shrewdness... When It Comes To The CLAIMS... That Are Made Nowadays... ... SO MANY Games... !!! That People Now Play... !!!!! The Type That Have RACKETS... And Strings That Pull Jackets... !!! On Puppets And Slaves... Who Seem To Get Brave.... When It’s LATE In The day.... !!!!! To REFUTERS I Say... CALM DOWN Now Okay... !!! I Suggest You Stay COOLER... Than London’s Commuters... When TERROR Becomes.... What HITS It’s Stations... !!!!!! Or Cooler Than COUGARS... Who Move Like SEDUCERS... When Their ONLY Future... Is *** With OLD Suitors ... Boozers And Schmoozers'... !!! Whose ***** LOST IT’s Rooster.... !?!?! So NEEDS To Use BOOSTERS... Like..... ****** Users.... !!!!!! As I Said... This Poem... Should PROVE I’m NO LOSER... !!!!! I’m Just A Producer... of Rhymes That Are Shrewder... Than SCOOTER Type Looters... !!!!! Who’s... SICKER Than TUMOURS... !!!!! And Like... " Steve McQueen "... When It Comes To Rhyme Schemes... Don’t Let The Rest FOOL YA.... !!!!! I’m THE KING of What’s... ........ “ COOLER “.......
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97
Clatter and bang bang living in a building site It has to be done!
0
Nov 22, 2019
Nov 22, 2019 at 9:13 AM UTC
Asbestos Cladding (Haiku)