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"cupids" poems
I picture her eyes burning the sun to a blaze- The warm winds of her tenderness, the beauty of her grace- Angelic voices sing notes of an emotional state- Thinking the thoughts that outlast all time and all space- Interlocked destiny-Cupids arrow of praise- Aphrodite holds Aries-In love with Capricorn days- Pumping and pounding feeling her right through my vein’s- Denial of a skeptic no longer scared of the chase- Standing on mountain tops-Vision clear without haze- Emotions storm in like lighting, thunder, and rain- Physical feelings have my body going insane- Lost under covers till the day finally breaks- Illuminating passion bodies intertwined in a maze- Baby girl is a blessing like her love that I crave- Baby girl is the best thing I love all of her ways- Blessed by spirits her beauty blesses my days- - RICHARD ITSKOVICH
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Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 11:26 AM UTC
Capricorn-Aries
she texted 'I dreamt of you this afternoon' which was a promising start 'you were a paintball instructor... and you shot me in the heart' now - I'd never dreamed of her (and thought that even worse) I wondered if I should mention it or just write it down in verse but, that very night, dreaming in the solace of the dark I took part in her archery class and she shot cupids arrow through my heart
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Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 3:53 AM UTC
Her
Let me love you like that And darling, love me so. There's no other for us, So just let go And come into my arms. Lets do the slow, slow dance. You're like the summer breeze Gently caressing my hair. You're the magnificent trees Whispering love in my ears. Look at the moon in the sky. Look at the Cupids fly. And when you miss me somedays Look at the stars in the night. Turn up the music some more, Smile a little more bright. Let me love you like that. Let me give you my all. Let me steal your breath. Let me be your girl. 'Cause you're my Prince Charming And baby, I'm your Barbie Doll. *Yeah, you're my Prince Charming And baby, I'm your Barbie Doll.*
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
PRINCE CHARMING (a song)
I met a shell of a mountain who knew she was finished claimed she grew up from a grain of sand with every year wider she bloomed a little bit longer to the roof of the sky with outstretched hands she made friends with the sun, shared enemies with no one counted weeks like she should of counted days and swallowed handfuls of night so she could sleep tight and turn her thoughts from its stone cold ways and this was the beginning, the start of the ending you can't die from a broken heart but from the time the sun rose to the space where it fell away she would love, and it wouldn't take part and every every day she would echo echo in every single way she should let go let go but it had her in its sights cupids icy arrows so she caught every one with her heart like it was her duty it walked the wrong wrong way down her one way plan she was surrounded by forests, rivers and beauty until that glacier froze over the land and so she blamed herself hated her wealth she was born at too young of an age and every night her dreams were touched by witches fingers until her heart was caged. with every morning spent not caring if she cares or not sleeping in the melt and mud, waiting for the earth to rot burying herself alive she scrapes the hole that it left open empty as her very heart, that mountain was all broken all broken, that mountain was all broken now I can see that her bloods red and she’s got feelings and they always get spilled both without thinking
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May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 11:29 PM UTC
FALLING IN LOVE WITH GLACIERS (morla tortoise shell mountain)
Out of a **** he made Great Art It was no ordinary **** no! It was straight from the heart, that    **** It had lain too long in the dark Now was it's time to start To make its bid for freedom... and for stardom. It flew like a dart that **** from the    heart Like an arrow strung from Cupids    bow Little did it know how luminous it'd    glow Becoming one of the Greats in the    Farting Canon. It was probably the greatest **** poem    ever written In my own humble opinion It was very daring and it smelt of    onion It was certainly the fairest fartiest    poem I ever seen If it was one of the three Musketeers It would have to have been    D'artagoine. It inflated like a balloon, blew up like    a great glass bubble Then it popped and headed off    toward England Flying further afield than any ****    had ever flown It touched people's hearts, bewitched    every nation Resounded around the world Yea! was heard in every Kingdom. It flew long, it rounded the Horn Like a Lark, that **** it soared and    sung It was no boring old **** It was far fartier and fruiter than that It was a King of Farts Way above the fartiest of farters and    all the farting Arthurs It was the real King Arthur The King Arthur of all farts and    Farters. A real Belter was that **** that came    from the heart That had all the Angels singing in    their cloisters, A real work of Art just like Mozart Or remember... remember your    Shakespeare "Hark! A **** a **** Whereforth art ?     Thou **** It played its part, that **** yea! it    wielded its Excalibur. O! there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here blowing sweet bubbles next    to you You! on your little flutey flute flute and    Me! on my big Bass Trombone.
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Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 7:24 PM UTC
Out of a **** he made Great Art
Out of a **** he made Great Art It was no ordinary **** no! It was straight from the heart, that    **** It had lain too long in the dark Now was it's time to start To make its bid for freedom... and for stardom. It flew like a dart that **** from the    heart Like an arrow strung from Cupids    bow Little did it know how luminous it'd    glow Becoming one of the Greats in the    Farting Canon. It was probably the greatest **** poem    ever written In my own humble opinion It was very daring and it smelt of    onion It was certainly the fairest fartiest    poem I ever seen If it was one of the three Musketeers It would have to have been    D'artagoine. It inflated like a balloon, blew up like    a great glass bubble Then it popped and headed off    toward England Flying further afield than any ****    had ever flown It touched people's hearts, bewitched    every nation Resounded around the world Yea! was heard in every Kingdom. It flew long, it rounded the Horn Like a Lark, that **** it soared and    sung It was no boring old **** It was far fartier and fruiter than that It was a King of Farts Way above the fartiest of farters and    all the farting Arthurs It was the real King Arthur The King Arthur of all farts and    Farters. A real Belter was that **** that came    from the heart That had all the Angels singing in    their cloisters, A real work of Art just like Mozart Or remember... remember your    Shakespeare "Hark! A **** a **** Whereforth art ?     Thou **** It played its part, that **** yea! it    wielded its Excalibur. O! there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here blowing sweet bubbles next    to you You! on your little flutey flute flute and    Me! on my big Bass Trombone.
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61
catch the last wave and i'll be there combing the beachhead of our misery swollen with big love, choking on the theory of our negative heavens you and i, we marvel at the heresy of our wisdom and cherish no giant over divine we david the furies that are nephelim but conjure no gods where the plastic can't be useful we dunder in the bluff of innocent cupids we - the idiots on the cliff - dancing when the glockenspiel itches ! clock faced and *** up i'll be there with black honey, " With You " no doubt pondering the wrinkles in your sleep breath. the sweet killing of tomcats and mackerels the plain fact that our noses are numb from eskimo kissing in the igloo of our perpetual alaska the arctic furnace of our wild fires of pure illusion to trod stunning over hell's paradise and catch a glimpse of snarky stark Silence... You catch the last wave - and i'll be nothing but the singing bones of the wind in the throes of an ****** of  " need you "  and only you. a chosen cyclone from heaven i'll be just a little boy in the clutches of a dead teddy where the poppies sing hallelujah ! and our hearts blight the orchid of our accord. and down - comes, what ? what do we do ? what could we possibly ? we hopscotch the bonnets and glue ravenous bumblebees to a blanket of snow. cause we have the technology - we can disassemble it... discretely.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
We Hopscotch The Bonnets And Glue Ravenous Bumblebees To A Blanket Of Snow
Of all the things we’ve shared together, I will always remember… The first time we hung out, And how I had the best time with you. How happy I felt getting to know you. Our first kiss, And how your lips felt against mine, The first time you told me that you loved me, And how that moment became a memory I’ll never forget. I love everything about you, And anything that reminds me of you. Because for me, It will always be you…
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Jun 2, 2022
Jun 2, 2022 at 1:24 AM UTC
Cupids Arrow
Mongst the salacious ferns of Artemis requested in the land of the handsome labyris women wealing and weaving Vulcans shrewd hearts of jasper and chalcendony, governess Hulda cleaves Muspellsheims yew bones fletching mandrakes philtre whetting hie Cupids perfuse herb of grace intercessorial unto volcanic pious virtues haranguing loves cataract dashing herewith demotic enditements distempered of ludic ordination; forging a year and a day halest cledonomancies volley of truths bequeathing privity of Heavens prismatic trajectory. ELEETE J MUIR.
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
Rainbow Darts.
Drawing on something I cannot know, Her breath alone stirs miles within, And my joy surges up to overflow, For man was not meant to keep it in. And so here gushes forth first blood of cupids arrow, Splashing rose on my cheeks at her mildest grin.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
Blush
Your beauty touches of a stars heavenly radiance For in your face is captured their celestial glow In blissful pools of endless starlight splashing And I alone my love will always deeply know The value of your beautifully enchanting eyes Which securely hold in bond my heart each day In a powerless confinement of cupids sweet adore Where my love easily grows in an abounding way For deep in my dreams I have always sought Your heart's love which daily endears my mind For it has always been my heart's fervent desire To of your sweet love belong an infinite time For to serve the daily needs of your lovely heart Each day leaves my face with an enthralling glow Knowing I will never have a single desire to depart Those beautifully enchanting eyes who love me so.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
Enchanting Eyes
The sun shines, the sea sparkles, Laughter fills the air, delighted chuckles Bubble from cavorting cupids, This is their time, memories built On a sweet summer day, Happiness founded on laughter and play. This languid Aphrodite, though Must be content with vicarious joy, Seeking balm in the salt sea, Soaking invisible wounds, savouring the sting. Far away, Adonis waits, and waits, To bathe with her once more.
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
Devotion
In tis universe wide In its unknown glide from the cupids bow stiriketh the arrow of love eyes sparkled with tear Uncertain in its fear yet tis pleasure to melt beating heart of love felt striketh the arrow of love from the cupids bow
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
cupids bow
I don't feel at home where I am, or where I spend time; only where, beyond counting, there's freedom and calm, that is, waves, that is, space where, when there, you consist of pure freedom, which, seen, turns that Gorgon, the crowd, to stone, to pebbles and sand . . . where life's mean- ing lies buried, that never let one come within cannon shot yet. From cloud-covered wells untold pour color and light, a fete of cupids and Ledas in gold. That is, silk and honey and sheen. That is, boon and quiver and call. That is, all that lives to be free, needing no words at all.
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3.4k
I Don't Feel At Home Where I Am
In the great scheme of life, many choices you make, Where to work, who to date, your yard when to rake. The game of hearts is not quite the same, Who you love and end up with, is all based on aim. Yes Cupids aim, is sometimes not good, Dam arrow it lands, in many a strange hood. Once per chance the target is hit, They may be charming, attractive and full of wit. Only the lucky lovers get this type of win, The arrow is known to bring pain, shame and sin. Never knowing what's in store for you, Loving arms and a partner that’s true, Or an unfaithful idiot, to make you feel blue. You may think you scored, they look smokin' hot, Having *** day and night, you love them a lot. This sounds pretty awesome, is there a down side? Not unless you count secrets, and the lovers he hides. The girl that finds sales, and will spend all your cash, She goes out on black Friday, doing the fifty yard dash. Coming home the next day, a smile on her face, I saved money here, and there, and this place! What she fails to tell you, is your fresh out of money, Say something about it, she'll resign as your honey. The men are no better, their tempers get hot, Slobs and the lazy, and the ones that smoke *** One time in the game, Cupid seemed to shoot straight, He gave me a lover, to see I couldn’t wait. We had some good times, but the end is the same, Bad excuses, feelings hurt, another to tame. Please freakin' Cupid, have a talk with William Tell, Take an archery lesson, or your bow I will sell. You keep making me fall, for the wrong type of mate, Just want a good friend, not a women to hate. Visit poemsbypaul.com
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Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
Choices
In the great scheme of life, many choices you make, Where to work, who to date, your yard when to rake. The game of hearts is not quite the same, Who you love and end up with, is all based on aim. Yes Cupids aim, is sometimes not good, Dam arrow it lands, in many a strange hood. Once per chance the target is hit, They may be charming, attractive and full of wit. Only the lucky lovers get this type of win, The arrow is known to bring pain, shame and sin. Never knowing what's in store for you, Loving arms and a partner that’s true, Or an unfaithful idiot, to make you feel blue. You may think you scored, they look smokin' hot, Having *** day and night, you love them a lot. This sounds pretty awesome, is there a down side? Not unless you count secrets, and the lovers he hides. The girl that finds sales, and will spend all your cash, She goes out on black Friday, doing the fifty yard dash. Coming home the next day, a smile on her face, I saved money here, and there, and this place! What she fails to tell you, is your fresh out of money, Say something about it, she'll resign as your honey. The men are no better, their tempers get hot, Slobs and the lazy, and the ones that smoke *** One time in the game, Cupid seemed to shoot straight, He gave me a lover, to see I couldn’t wait. We had some good times, but the end is the same, Bad excuses, feelings hurt, another to tame. Please freakin' Cupid, have a talk with William Tell, Take an archery lesson, or your bow I will sell. You keep making me fall, for the wrong type of mate, Just want a good friend, not a women to hate. Visit poemsbypaul.com
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This Little, Silent, Gloomy Monument, Contains all that was sweet and innocent; The softest pratler that e'er found a Tongue, His Voice was Musick and his Words a Song ; Which now each List'ning Angel smiling hears, Such pretty Harmonies compose the Spheres; Wanton as unfledg'd Cupids, ere their Charms Has learn'd the little arts of doing harms ; Fair as young Cherubins, as soft and kind, And tho translated could not be refin'd ; The Seventh dear pledge the Nuptial Joys had given, Toil'd here on Earth, retir'd to rest in Heaven ; Where they the shining Host of Angels fill, Spread their gay wings before the Throne, and smile.
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3k
Epitaph on the Tombstone of a Child
You have a lovely set of lips Your top lip looks like the bottom lip turned upside down Shapeless lips kisses like clouds They look better pressed to my cupids bow When tongues meet and the melting begins It's almost unreasonable How much power your lips have over me That thin line of fat attached to a face that broke a million hearts But still I press to them For comfort Warmth Love
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Lips For Warmth
I'm a prisoner of love, in this unguarded cell, The warden whistles my name you'd think it hell, but she knows my case all too well, Her piercing eyes as resolute as the Bastille, Dodging Cupids arrows at will, Across this broom is forever, I'm gone for a life long spell, With Joy as my bars and happiness the rubber shower mats, Blissful ecstasy is its escape deterrent traps, I pass the time a whittling hearts and sharpening this rap. See those chalk lines on the wall of my heart? They record the memories of my days since the start, Her smiles are more prized than jailhouse art. At inspection and roll call in the morning, The smirk under the cap then a whispering, Keep careful watch on our "Prisoner Prince Charming",
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
The prisoner
Language: Roman-Hindi dard hota hai ab yun dooor na jaaya kijiye is theer ko ab is dil me hee rahne dijiye sah na payega ab ye dil ye tho zara dekiye kafa hain humse agar tho ek mauka aur dijiye Translation in English It hurts now don't stay away Let this cupids arrow in my heart stay This heart will not bear can't you see If you are displeased, another chance I plea
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Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 8:25 PM UTC
Ahsas (Feeling)
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets to trains of light. now draw us into daylight in our beds; and clear away what presses on the brain: put out the neon shapes that float and swell and glare down the gray avenue between the eyes in pinks and yellows, letters and twitching signs. Hang-over moons, wane, wane! From the window I see an immense city, carefully revealed, made delicate by over-workmanship, detail upon detail, cornice upon facade, reaching up so languidly up into a weak white sky, it seems to waver there. (Where it has slowly grown in skies of water-glass from fused beads of iron and copper crystals, the little chemical "garden" in a jar trembles and stands again, pale blue, blue-green, and brick.) The sparrows hurriedly begin their play. Then, in the West, "Boom!" and a cloud of smoke. "Boom!" and the exploding ball of blossom blooms again. (And all the employees who work in a plants where such a sound says "Danger," or once said "Death," turn in their sleep and feel the short hairs bristling on backs of necks.) The cloud of smoke moves off. A shirt is taken of a threadlike clothes-line. Along the street below the water-wagon comes throwing its hissing, snowy fan across peelings and newspapers. The water dries light-dry, dark-wet, the pattern of the cool watermelon. I hear the day-springs of the morning strike from stony walls and halls and iron beds, scattered or grouped cascades, alarms for the expected: queer cupids of all persons getting up, whose evening meal they will prepare all day, you will dine well on his heart, on his, and his, so send them about your business affectionately, dragging in the streets their unique loves. Scourge them with roses only, be light as helium, for always to one, or several, morning comes whose head has fallen over the edge of his bed, whose face is turned so that the image of the city grows down into his open eyes inverted and distorted. No. I mean distorted and revealed, if he sees it at all.
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2.6k
Love Lies Sleeping
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets to trains of light. now draw us into daylight in our beds; and clear away what presses on the brain: put out the neon shapes that float and swell and glare down the gray avenue between the eyes in pinks and yellows, letters and twitching signs. Hang-over moons, wane, wane! From the window I see an immense city, carefully revealed, made delicate by over-workmanship, detail upon detail, cornice upon facade, reaching up so languidly up into a weak white sky, it seems to waver there. (Where it has slowly grown in skies of water-glass from fused beads of iron and copper crystals, the little chemical "garden" in a jar trembles and stands again, pale blue, blue-green, and brick.) The sparrows hurriedly begin their play. Then, in the West, "Boom!" and a cloud of smoke. "Boom!" and the exploding ball of blossom blooms again. (And all the employees who work in a plants where such a sound says "Danger," or once said "Death," turn in their sleep and feel the short hairs bristling on backs of necks.) The cloud of smoke moves off. A shirt is taken of a threadlike clothes-line. Along the street below the water-wagon comes throwing its hissing, snowy fan across peelings and newspapers. The water dries light-dry, dark-wet, the pattern of the cool watermelon. I hear the day-springs of the morning strike from stony walls and halls and iron beds, scattered or grouped cascades, alarms for the expected: queer cupids of all persons getting up, whose evening meal they will prepare all day, you will dine well on his heart, on his, and his, so send them about your business affectionately, dragging in the streets their unique loves. Scourge them with roses only, be light as helium, for always to one, or several, morning comes whose head has fallen over the edge of his bed, whose face is turned so that the image of the city grows down into his open eyes inverted and distorted. No. I mean distorted and revealed, if he sees it at all.
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WARNING *Extreme use of profanities and Gods engaged in an **** of lust Apology in advance for any offence caused* SL At Freyja's Table ******* Gods everywhere ******* here And ******* there They ******* **** and ******* **** Some ******* clean Some ******* muck They **** in heaven And in **** in hell Cupids got them under his ******* spell With ******* arrows in their ******* hearts ******* priests ******* tarts ******* freaky super powers ******* torrential golden showers The ******* sparks ******* fly ******* ****** in their eyes ******* Eris causing troubles ******* Bacchus blowing bubbles ******* Sif is ******* Thor More and more   On the ******* floor ******* Gods everywhere Tied up with their golden hair Freyja clears her ******* table Grabs any God that she's able And ***** and ***** And licks and ***** ******* breathless Who ******* cares ******* Gods are everywhere Discarded robes that lay beneath ******* horns and clenching teeth They ******* *** They ******* squirt They *** again Until they hurt Steaming bodies Sweaty hair ******* Gods are everywhere
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
At Freyja's Table
Lust, attraction.. attachment. I'm at the mercy of biochemistry. Cupid with his arrow, shot my soul. In a ridiculous fashion. It makes no sense.. is it supposed to? Flushes cheeks, my hearts racing.. hands are clammy. Never met a soul I was close to. The dopamine, could be the nicotine. I'm blinded.. such a beautiful face The adrenalin & serotonin coursing through my veins. I find I'm tempted, temporarily insane. Cupids star struck victim. Vasopressin & oxytocin in my nervous system. Tell me are these the drugs for long term commitment? I just had to laugh.. in my experience, good things never last. Like the ocean, my love for you was vast. I guess cupid missed his shot The time has come, your love went past. Like cocain, I'm sure there's a better way. It was all just chemicals anyway..
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
Serotonin & Dopamine
Stupid Cupid his arrow didn't stick my heart it tore right through it left a gaping wound that got infected by the likes of you it took only seconds for the infection to spread it moved from my heart to my stomach and head I cannot think or speak in a normal fashion it feels insane it is so obvious the infection has crept into my brain it's in my stomach, it can't escape but it still tries it doesn't hurt, just feels like I swallowed a dozen live butterflies this infection of you has affected me more than I realize the spring in my step, smile on my face and the twinkle in my eyes when I refer to you as an infection, I want to put your mind at ease I mean it in the most loving sense because you are my favorite disease it's all Cupids fault everything turned out this way next time I see him I'll have to thank him for his arrow gone astray
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Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 1:08 AM UTC
Stupid Cupid
i can still see you there, some delirious and shining thing a beautiful ******* with your lips puckered, your cupids bow winking in and out of view sweet for me, i feel your mouth in my hair some kind of ghost kiss whispering something to me, breath soft on my brow i can't read as well as you, darling i can't read a thousand things and still have room for more, my belly distended with the words, my heart bleeding for it my golden swan, did i steal you? did i break into the giant's home and whisk you away, little bird? i feel the sugar on your skin steam rising from the crooks of your limbs smiling, a gaping gorgeous maw head pushed back, knees scraping against the frozen wall so pretty i might have dreamed you, maybe is there any version of this where i don't end up bleeding? (probably not; but it'll be a lovely fall down)
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Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC
the honeybee song
This ocean breeze Lightly slapping my face The palm trees  Standing tall swaying in its place Oh Florida, how romantic you are With your view of perfection  Every one here has a connection Only because you have brought us here Oh Florida, how bipolar you are Day time you are hotter than hell Night time you hit me with cupids spell Down here, seeking love Take my heart on a flight like a magic rug You really are a lifetime of memories Only thing is I want a love to share it with me
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Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 2:58 PM UTC
Florida
Hey listen, Things might sound platonic but your black shirt suits you perfectly. Just like that dimples, bubbled up so calmly in the right place. Destined perks in the right choice of creature. Your ravishing eyes and sugar-coated smile obviously would: **** the Athena, Drunken the cupids, And gladly also take myself down on my knees. I'm not trying to hide, But reality blows better miles around you.
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May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
Delusion