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"dapper" poems
You're watching, judging, and assuming You don't understand why I do what I do.  Why I obsess over little things. So stop trying to The world is my oyster But without the beautiful pearl Just a plain old shell, in a plain old world It's a shame you'll never know the brilliance All you're capable to understand is the madness. Insane, sane Heart, or brain Ferocious , tame Take two breaths and stop breathing all together. Turn your self to useless energy, forever. Welcome to mind of the mad. The queen of the asylum A dapper old castle in the brain of a girl. Who is tortured yet pampered in her own little world.
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:00 AM UTC
Mind of the Mad
Okay I'm a guy and thinking something positively about my body is something I've never even tried! Deep breath... Deep breath.... alright, maybe This'll be for the best ahem Okay now to think about my body in a positive manner I'm not the best looking guy but I can clean up and look dapper I have curly hair and some ******* up teeth but embracing my flaws is the only way to get over my raging insecurity I may get inked up soon ideally on my birthday at high noon yes I'm a guy and I'm not Charles atlas but I'm taking my body off of my mental blacklist
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
Positivity
Hair, the color of ripened wheat, with the sun shinning upon it. Eyes, so clear a green, shot with gold, as to be jewels. A smile that reaches her eyes and casts a glow from within. Five tiny fingers grasp an aged hand, with the delicacy of fine porcelain. Two small feet, lively tapping, in an excited tempo. A Grandfather walks, stooped, along beside her, with pride evident in the smile he affords others. His hat, a dapper angle, upon his head of snowy fringe. His one hand held by hers, while in his other, a few wrinkled bills, held aloft as a trophy. I stop and watch their approach. I watch as they pass beside me on the path. As the two, young at heart, head for the colorful, ice cream truck parked at the curb.
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Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 12:43 PM UTC
Ice Cream
Potted daisy by the window sill is in love with Mr. Sunshine - the morning brings. Dapper and Radiant and oh! So warm! Daisy is spellbound by his charm. At every first blush ... she sings her song... that his love makes her tall , that his love keeps her strong. But as the daylight begins to wane Ms. Daisy feels partings strain . With the setting dusk the waning glow the night is set in Indigo Repose Ms. Daisy , don't rue for the day For , Mr. Sunshine is but a few hours away !
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Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
Photosynthesis
Four days of hunger Four days so sweet My stomach is angry It's so mad at me And the pain is lovely It's sweet agony And then I ate I filled my tummy up I binged until it hurt More food; not enough I don't want to weigh myself I broke my own trust I broke to binge And I couldn't throw it up It felt so good But the guilt is too much I feel so fat But when I eat I feel love. I'm breaking to binge Eat anything in sight Ninety-six hours Ruined in one night This lack of self-control Is ruining my life. Hunger hurts But I want it so bad Hunger hurts But I miss what I had I miss the hunger pains Cause binging makes me sad So I'm working to purge I'm working on control This dapper little dirge Is a reflection of my soul No one ******* cares So no one needs to know. No one ever stops me So I'm not going to eat Because the me in the mirror Isn't the me I want to see. If there was someone there Maybe I'd be free. Back to the cutting board My goal was one-thirty Back to the cutting board Now one-twenty Self-control I like the sound of eighty. I broke to binge The ugliest sin I broke for food And now I brood But I'm better again I must be thin
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Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Break to Binge
Is it acting or adapting? smiling for the show of customers: bright, dapper, cheery and proud - pushing product with a knowing smile, words animated, confident and collected. once they leave i sit and ponder, I see the stars in their films and admire from afar, lamenting that I cannot act - but can I?
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Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
Cinema of Sales
Into the peachy clouds A strawberry sunset spreads some light We track across the chili fields And climb aboard the gravy night A chocolate pond reflects a moon Tall hedges show the way A startled pheasant chucks alarm A pigeon ***** and flies away An unseen owl shrieks hello Foxes cough their husky bark The dapper badger stirs below The night shift claims the dark The ploughman works on through the night Engine roaring, blazing lights In his power-walking leviathan Guided by the satellites On we go, the village near We'll find a welcome there An inglenook, a glowing hearth A pint of hoppy beer.
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Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
England
The poet’s quill scribes a vision of the debutante as she rests amongst the bluebells Scattered like jewels over the meadow. The delicate voice of the robins Echo through the valley, Where the gentleman tells of his ardor As they shelter amongst the weeping willows. Curls tumble from the confines of her hat, Parasol tilting to hide girlish blushes, Careless of her silk skirts they are crushed, lying as broken rose petals. She glows with the joy of an un-chaperoned picnic Scent of cinnamon scrolls tempt her senses, as her beau offers cider to moisten their suddenly dry throats. Dapper in his impeccable finery, Coat tails trailing, crisply starched shirt points lifting his chin, Top hat tilted at a rakish angle. Dark eye’s glinting with the thrill of his endeavors. Sunshine silhouettes the glory of the lovers, whom the poet has sewn together as an artist creates a masterpiece. Each syllable as a brushstroke on canvas. A Monet made not of oil and brushes, But ink and parchment. Every word scribed by the care of the poet, Transformed within the mind of the reader
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Oct 21, 2009
Oct 21, 2009 at 12:59 AM UTC
Scribed masterpiece
The sand hides the sun. Through a fog of particulate silica. Distorted. For the first time in my life, I may look upon that glowing bearing, for minutes straight. Innards swallow, That rock it flings, Paints on the light. Now the water vapor hangs, Amongst its spiny rays, Creating a mist of cloudy haze. My eyes must seek to, Penetrate. Alas they lose this skirmish fray. The sun cannot hide its specter. The doppelganger image always, Dapper and prim. Amongst the thoughts in rift entrails of brain, I think i am my brain. I don't think that when, head cut from body, Shall my soul reside where my heart was; Instead I may see, conscious, from where the two parted. Creating a scar from which to view this hazed sun. Ever notice, How the eyes, Are the only, Place, You can, See from... I can be an Ammonite with many chambers calcified. Ghost fossil human head. A ghost in a shell. My eyes will carve shapes from the clouds.
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Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 8:48 PM UTC
From Hydrogen, To Helium, To a Vegetable Human
soul brothers from other mothers, fellow city dwellers, one up downtown one down uptown, fellow riders, of the underground of the by-NY-ways of America we met years ago ruminating on poetry, late one night/early one morn, just like us, there is no difference, call the hour what you want, we spoke one language, long long ago in the early days here at HP the I, lion of gray stumbled on me, with a smiling, stunning midnight crosstown compliment, kindred instant he stole my breath, with work that.. declaimed notions of quiet unshouted artistry excellent and a new appetite was birthed in my head, in my bed one night the young black man-father and the aging white-grandfather so little in common, but in the early morn, we both haunt the hallways of the city of poetry, speaking the poetry of the city, where blood is but two colors black and white, like the poem words we share that you are now eye-reading and in our torn, but not yet shredded country, we find ways to speak I am long done, past being the past, he is the dapper father of the future and the river boundaries we share, on different sides are lines of connection not demarcation
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Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 2:09 PM UTC
Ilion gray
Adieu, my dearest. From the depths of my heart. I can't bear to stay, when we're always apart. Adieu, my darling. I know it's unfair.. But i just can't get use to having someone who cares. Adieu, my lover But I need a dapper fellow, who's a tad bit shallow But only because He deserves to be. Who lurks in the hollows, And makes sure no one follows  And tries to convince me, That he is why I cry in the night, And why in every dream His face provokes fright. Adieu, Adieu, Adieu. It's always been me,  Its never been you, But you were too blind to even start to see, The firery passion building within me. He's my rock, whom I can't live without. Even though everyone has their doubts. On why I feel so strongly for Him, Why I follow his every whim. I care, I say. I just care a lot. Even though I know Ill never have a shot.. at anything but, Adieu,  Adieu,  Adieu.
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:08 AM UTC
Adieu
How uncanny! Your stoic: so suave, so dapper. How uncanny! Your voice: so sweet, such a trapper. How uncanny! Your hair: so fragrant, such a teaser. How uncanny! Your eyes: so magnified, such an abrupter. How uncanny! Your lips: like a bubblegum, filled with eager. How uncanny! Your hands: on mine, no answer. How uncanny! Your silence: in your mind, like cancer. How uncanny! Your thoughts: thorough rejection, my soul's attacker. How uncanny! Your breaths: fumes of disdain, silent killer. How uncanny! Your scent: faint whiff of trouble, a heart-breaker. How uncanny! Your dreams: misaligned with mine, an eerie blockbuster. How uncanny! Your soul: my bulls-eye, a sharpshooter. How uncanny! That night: I wish, lasted forever. How uncanny... That night... you wish... hadn't transpire. -my demise-
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Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
How uncanny!
she doesn't scare me. but sometimes stabs me. right through the heart. we call this spoken art. the way those words can burn, the way those words return. she wins battles of the tongue, quick breaths of the lung. she puts me down makes me drown yet still thine's friend our friendship cannot end. but one day I'll stand I'll stand up for myself. I'll burn her horrid comments let the hatred suffice. by then I'll be sixteen all ready for seventeen when I'll finally rid her I'll finally be dapper, look down on her insides her insecurity reveals.
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Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 6:49 AM UTC
this bully
Because you are wonder-bread-woman-- bearer of two and a half children, five feet and four point six inches of dapper domestication. soaring, you are at the peak of the bell curve, and when you slip it's on spilled milk, never cried for. wistful, you stand on the edge of the bed and reach, manicure  outstretched towards plastic glow in the dark stars upwards of your eight-foot-walls, because after all, ceiling's the limit.
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Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Reach for the stats
**Here you are, all dressed up To take me out to dinner, our very first date Even more handsome than in your corporate office So dapper, dignified, distinguished, so impeccably dressed and groomed In your Armani pinstriped business suit Silk tie, starched white shirt, cufflinks Polished black leather Italian shoes Your BMW waits outside Well, I have news for you.... I changed my mind Yes - changed my mind We will stay home tonight You will cook dinner for me right here You are stunned "ME? I have a reservation at the finest restaurant I know everyone there And I don't know how to cook! I know you're joking.. You must be." No. No joke. Give me those keys to your BMW. Yes – the car keys Take off your Rolex wristwatch No need to look at the time. Time to get cooking. No, don't complain You’re not in your office now And one more thing..... Take off those expensive shoes and socks I want to see the cuffs of your hand tailored navy blue pinstripes brushing your naked toes.... You are irritated, annoyed, frustrated As you obey, resisting all the way You give up your keys with the BMW symbol, Your heavy masculine watch, gleaming polished shoes, still warm from your feet thin black dress socks I know it is frightening for a man like you to surrender his shoes and by the way I do LOVE the shoes... They just don't belong on your feet right now You call the restaurant and cancel Shoeless and carless Suddenly a servant I’ll read the recipe. While you peel the potatoes..... I want you barefoot in my kitchen**
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
Change of Dinner Plans
**Here you are, all dressed up To take me out to dinner, our very first date Even more handsome than in your corporate office So dapper, dignified, distinguished, so impeccably dressed and groomed In your Armani pinstriped business suit Silk tie, starched white shirt, cufflinks Polished black leather Italian shoes Your BMW waits outside Well, I have news for you.... I changed my mind Yes - changed my mind We will stay home tonight You will cook dinner for me right here You are stunned "ME? I have a reservation at the finest restaurant I know everyone there And I don't know how to cook! I know you're joking.. You must be." No. No joke. Give me those keys to your BMW. Yes – the car keys Take off your Rolex wristwatch No need to look at the time. Time to get cooking. No, don't complain You’re not in your office now And one more thing..... Take off those expensive shoes and socks I want to see the cuffs of your hand tailored navy blue pinstripes brushing your naked toes.... You are irritated, annoyed, frustrated As you obey, resisting all the way You give up your keys with the BMW symbol, Your heavy masculine watch, gleaming polished shoes, still warm from your feet thin black dress socks I know it is frightening for a man like you to surrender his shoes and by the way I do LOVE the shoes... They just don't belong on your feet right now You call the restaurant and cancel Shoeless and carless Suddenly a servant I’ll read the recipe. While you peel the potatoes..... I want you barefoot in my kitchen**
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A toe-tapper with dapper deities dancing amongst my dreams, whilst whispering the seeds of hidden keys Interloper of the thieves Charmer of the fleas A Powerful peon, seceding from the teams Daring to believe in the sea, swallowing the cities in its grief Dare to achieve the belief of flight and fly away Contemplate and fall in over thought Just do not Stop Doing the undo-able Fate is renewable Outwardly controllable In what you think you see in the deplorable hues from the hopeful news of better days, lead astray in satisfaction to the complaints of saint-less ways I debate creating another other place, and drifting away through space, but hey, maybe its a phase and i'm just late to the show Last to know your nothings Im [Spinning] In place
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Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 10:03 AM UTC
Spinning
The man decked in blue      sits quite content           on a sofa                and observes wealthy offspring                waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth           glossed with potent peppermint.      These teens don't know love, lust is all it is.      While the Jazz bops away,           more whisky is poured                and they zip out to get jammy.                The man, mid-twenties,           kind of blue, dapper apparel,      has one on the rocks. Sees them walk in most evenings,      cute blondes with flawless skin,           guys in suits, bow ties, the works,                gaze into each other's pupils.                There are regulars,           Robert, the chap from Yale,      Quentin, sly guy at Harvard and Carly, still at school the man believes, who's coquettish, fresh,      these two want to have her           but she's astute,                knows just what she wants.                They're all after her in fact.           Every male in the room      turns their head, can't blame them, she's like Candyfloss,      all the men want a taste           but there's not enough for everyone                and they don't look like the sharing kind.                The man in blue           just grins to himself      thinking how grand it is that he's single, sensible, secure.
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Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 10:27 AM UTC
Blue Candyfloss
The man decked in blue      sits quite content           on a sofa                and observes wealthy offspring                waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth           glossed with potent peppermint.      These teens don't know love, lust is all it is.      While the Jazz bops away,           more whisky is poured                and they zip out to get jammy.                The man, mid-twenties,           kind of blue, dapper apparel,      has one on the rocks. Sees them walk in most evenings,      cute blondes with flawless skin,           guys in suits, bow ties, the works,                gaze into each other's pupils.                There are regulars,           Robert, the chap from Yale,      Quentin, sly guy at Harvard and Carly, still at school the man believes, who's coquettish, fresh,      these two want to have her           but she's astute,                knows just what she wants.                They're all after her in fact.           Every male in the room      turns their head, can't blame them, she's like Candyfloss,      all the men want a taste           but there's not enough for everyone                and they don't look like the sharing kind.                The man in blue           just grins to himself      thinking how grand it is that he's single, sensible, secure.
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Timmy the tortoise shell Lived a tortured hell When he fell And cracked his shell As Timmy tortoise Had a timid soul That would spill From the cracks And stack in tow But Timmy was a loner Quick to ****** Closed the traps Of deviants and attackers With his snapper Even happier He'd turtle slap ya But Tim's dapper days Were done He was a flapper in the **** Of an overly populated pond Technologicalcated and wrong And it tinied t Under its beams Of ruining Until he Eventually Was gone
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
Turtle
I sit still Behind wispy brushes That cast the gloominess away Enough to admire the beauty Of this fragile azure trinket. I sit still alone, Behind wispy brushes That act upon others As forbidden territory, As a sanctuary that’s Mine, and mine alone. I sit so anxiously Behind wispy brushes Observing the trinket. What I can never grasp, Dwindles before me; I have claws For hands and feet, And the limelight Blinds what was meant To be a humiliating secret If I get close enough. If there ever was a day To be recorded in infamy; ‘Twould be the day where Stars sought new homes, Tigers grew coarse and ***** And villagers incinerated Every fiber of my being Behind such dapper azure faces As too, my darling Dancing wispy brushes -Juan Carlos Gomez
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Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 10:18 AM UTC
Behind Wispy Brushes
Was it my fault that I asked the larks  your secret whisper-name? A small mistake, I won't regret,  yet I am ashamed. They said it was Mountain Laurel  who opened the morning for song- I was happy,  half convinced They were not wrong The rain could come  or bubblegum.   I'd smiled as the flower  of our nakedness bloomed, Then withered in the bower.   Mountain Laurel Girl,  what wilts your cheek of rose? Why switch those crimson lips I kissed   with blue umbrellas? Later, confronted by nightingales,  they blamed the larks of lies-        "Moonflower is she      of the slender wrists, she,             of ocean eyes" And when I asked those dapper chaps  how sweetly she did love me They cawed a song of sunset  beset with storm, and ugly
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
Larks to Blame
The Calm(before the Storm) "It's not often these days that I get to relax, see the Sandman I'm usually draggin an axe, with my ex's new fella's head stuck on the spike, cause it was cut the **** off like I was wielding a pike. but today I'm very level,no need for medication, turn the interwebs off,no need for ************ Just me and my clan(the Irish version not the stupid one), everyone is rollin one smokin one or lightin one, flip the top off a bottle and contemplate a rattle, with the lady of the hour all's fair in love and battle. And this is nice....I like it when people don't flinch, hear the singin of a Finch as I pinch another inch, off the the J Jay handed me,a gentleman,a scholar, lean to me left to pass it on to Mal another, of the scientific,dapper rapper witty individuals, that make up the collective that I'm part of,see our principles, are the one thing that brought us all together, completely different birds yet all of one feather- as we feather the nest I smooth the hairs on me chest and...relax... cause its the eye of the storm, time to take stock,huddle up and keep warm, maybe huddles turn to cuddles as the music moves your feelings, cause its a warm fuzzy feeling,underneath the same ceiling, with me mates and me lover,I think I'll have another beer... Of course I'll have another, cause we're...safe now,for the moment at least, from the big bad wolf hulk,the Sandman sleeps, and while the cats away I can kick up my heels enjoy the solitude that Skitz rarely feels, cause the forecast's bleak,those clouds look like thunderstorms, but just for five minutes I'm relaxed ahhhh...,its the calm before the storm."
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
The Calm.
The Calm(before the Storm) "It's not often these days that I get to relax, see the Sandman I'm usually draggin an axe, with my ex's new fella's head stuck on the spike, cause it was cut the **** off like I was wielding a pike. but today I'm very level,no need for medication, turn the interwebs off,no need for ************ Just me and my clan(the Irish version not the stupid one), everyone is rollin one smokin one or lightin one, flip the top off a bottle and contemplate a rattle, with the lady of the hour all's fair in love and battle. And this is nice....I like it when people don't flinch, hear the singin of a Finch as I pinch another inch, off the the J Jay handed me,a gentleman,a scholar, lean to me left to pass it on to Mal another, of the scientific,dapper rapper witty individuals, that make up the collective that I'm part of,see our principles, are the one thing that brought us all together, completely different birds yet all of one feather- as we feather the nest I smooth the hairs on me chest and...relax... cause its the eye of the storm, time to take stock,huddle up and keep warm, maybe huddles turn to cuddles as the music moves your feelings, cause its a warm fuzzy feeling,underneath the same ceiling, with me mates and me lover,I think I'll have another beer... Of course I'll have another, cause we're...safe now,for the moment at least, from the big bad wolf hulk,the Sandman sleeps, and while the cats away I can kick up my heels enjoy the solitude that Skitz rarely feels, cause the forecast's bleak,those clouds look like thunderstorms, but just for five minutes I'm relaxed ahhhh...,its the calm before the storm."
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This is the tale of the gentleman who wore a trilby hat . He spoke  Uhum, to himself , and muttered things under his breath . His dress was smart , but casual , and so the ladies would agree , ‘What a strange man , yet he looks so dapper , I wish he would speak to me ‘ Now some of the larger girls grinned and smirked as he went on his merry way , he doffed his hat , and that was that as he passed them on his way . He walked home , Key in the door , ‘ hi dear I’m home once more ‘ to no answer came , it never did , he took off his hat , Placed it on a hook on the wall , took off his coat , and placed it on a coat rack , took off his shoes , changed into his pjs and slippers , and sat down . His grammar phone played the laughing police man every hour  of every day It just wouldn’t go away . Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ! stuck in the groove Ha ha ha ha ha ha !
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Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 7:18 AM UTC
The man with the trilby hat .
**Here you are, all dressed up To take me out to dinner, our very first date Even more handsome than in your corporate office So dapper, dignified, distinguished, so impeccably dressed and groomed In your Armani pinstriped business suit Silk tie, starched white shirt, cufflinks Polished black leather Italian shoes Your BMW waits outside Well, I have news for you.... I changed my mind Yes - changed my mind We will stay home tonight You will cook dinner for me right here You are stunned "ME? I have a reservation at the finest restaurant I know everyone there And I don't know how to cook! I know you're joking.. You must be." No. No joke. Give me those keys to your BMW. Take off your Rolex wristwatch No need to look at the time. Time to get cooking. No, don't complain And one more thing..... Take off those expensive shoes and socks I want to see the cuffs of your navy blue pinstripes brushing the cuffs of your naked toes.... Your smooth white soles will feel the floor While you peel the potatoes..... I want you barefoot in my kitchen**
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Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Change of Dinner Plans
Women like the skyscraper He's cultured so dapper And on paper how we perceive things it goes along way too print His hands showing nakedly walks of hints He's up to stunts Whose the one to blame What credibility made you want an old flame Or to write like you never danced   nakedly before Feeling lost after the glow graveyard shift hours slow Her body like the naked breeze air show Ever Sunday brunch Was divinity like Velvet Naked but it never shines In Philadelphia The College boy Alpha he loved Rina Moaning for Lisa Those Scholarships And his lady Left stains on his white collar Business trips The fantasy-scape Like the ship of her naked tip nail's Going to the ****** Islands sail He got the writer all roped into him Like her poem was his script let it arrive with him And their words Were like no other trip Admiration another naked talk vacation But in reality, they weren't naked to be fantasied To contemplate is this really Our time for fate The temptation is always there Like the cross leg road He's the intersection My mind is inside all his fragments To meet our perception Like a writer's block Goes a long way to anyone Reaction The kiss lipstick color beyond naked Fit so well French Connection Language goes beyond anyone that is naked Salacious, Delicious, Ambitious, Notorious Amourous, naked generous Without being naked Delirious Golden naked mounds He groans and it's quite normal to be yourself and growl like Wolf or a Fox She's the Triscuit He loves his Southern tasting biscuits He puts his suit on Dash of pepper and salt Are the stars at fault Over his shoulder He wraps her around She felt a freeze Wanting to hear the naked truth She was his cherry He played his basketball dunk Her naked cream The naked writer in between got drunk Her leg crosses and He's the tie being crossed she was in her flip flops The writer kept her heart of his message with cute pups Well the naked writer received An unusual box and she was naked LOL
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
The Naked Writer
Women like the skyscraper He's cultured so dapper And on paper how we perceive things it goes along way too print His hands showing nakedly walks of hints He's up to stunts Whose the one to blame What credibility made you want an old flame Or to write like you never danced   nakedly before Feeling lost after the glow graveyard shift hours slow Her body like the naked breeze air show Ever Sunday brunch Was divinity like Velvet Naked but it never shines In Philadelphia The College boy Alpha he loved Rina Moaning for Lisa Those Scholarships And his lady Left stains on his white collar Business trips The fantasy-scape Like the ship of her naked tip nail's Going to the ****** Islands sail He got the writer all roped into him Like her poem was his script let it arrive with him And their words Were like no other trip Admiration another naked talk vacation But in reality, they weren't naked to be fantasied To contemplate is this really Our time for fate The temptation is always there Like the cross leg road He's the intersection My mind is inside all his fragments To meet our perception Like a writer's block Goes a long way to anyone Reaction The kiss lipstick color beyond naked Fit so well French Connection Language goes beyond anyone that is naked Salacious, Delicious, Ambitious, Notorious Amourous, naked generous Without being naked Delirious Golden naked mounds He groans and it's quite normal to be yourself and growl like Wolf or a Fox She's the Triscuit He loves his Southern tasting biscuits He puts his suit on Dash of pepper and salt Are the stars at fault Over his shoulder He wraps her around She felt a freeze Wanting to hear the naked truth She was his cherry He played his basketball dunk Her naked cream The naked writer in between got drunk Her leg crosses and He's the tie being crossed she was in her flip flops The writer kept her heart of his message with cute pups Well the naked writer received An unusual box and she was naked LOL
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