"ditched" poems
i'm not sure what happened
to those beautiful women
i used & let live in my
shivering veins
synchronized swimming in my circulatory system
sunken eyes brimming
with that chlorine concoction they used to dip in
i dug them & ditched them
but i still recollect their quivering lips
as i dispensed the final kisses
& surrounded the spa with walls & fences
i mean i wonder if they still exist
with no lifeguard there to witness them?
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 7:47 PM UTC
“Oh you’re Irish?” he said.
“Did you learn the language much?” he said.
Honestly, what can I tell him? I was raised in the North - a ****** wasteland for such a naïve question.
Vague memories of fumbled classes where our secret history was ditched just to get straight into the basics (Cad é mar atá tú?)
No – seriously - I was not tied to it – it was anonymous to me at that age.
Forgotten like some distant echo of once visiting Coole House as a child.
Sure, we knew it was “important”, “our national language”, “heritage” etc. and we were warned it was quickly slipping into the drain of Western hegemony.
But it was baffling, unsexy and only the blunt-faced humorless IRA thugs amongst us were in any way keen.
Then it was gone, just like the faded memories of “The Children of Lir” from my primary school.
Looking back I wonder, what was the point?
A half-full measure paying lip service to our identity.
Teachers and headmasters terrified of the grand colonial reveal that the lessons might have hinted at (were they trying to stop us being Provos-in-waiting?).
And all of this against the awful shame of a common tongue that had no foe yet was slowly vanquishing from our shores.
It could have all been so different.
Rather than rushing to get something in our empty skulls, they could have given us a sense of joy, pride & belief in our own culture.
Calling on Yeats, Behan, Heaney and others to drown us in the language of our ancestors.
Telling the stories of old that only the academics & hippies were keeping from us then.
You know, it might kept us all on the same beautifully illuminated page.
We might have been comfortable in our skins and open to others,
not looking deep into our worthlessness and lashing out at them.
Language is being and language is connecting, I’ve learnt.
But that’s not something I got from my secondary school.
June-July 2018
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
You were my little hometown,
somewhere I could stay forever,
somewhere I could grow old in,
somewhere I was content.
I was your little hometown,
somewhere you grew up in,
but wanted to leave in the long run,
somewhere you were never content.
We used to sit by the pond,
and talk about the future,
I talked about ours
but you talked about yours.
We lie under the stars,
realizing how minute we were,
I got lost within the galaxy in your eyes,
while you never took notice of mine.
If I told you that I loved you,
(which I never did)
I know it’d never cross your mind,
to tell me you loved me back
(because you never did)
In your eyes, I was just your little hometown
Stranded in the middle of nowhere,
Somewhere you’ll never reach far.
In me, you thought you’d never make it anywhere.
So just like every protagonist in every story ever told,
you ditched your little hometown.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 8:38 AM UTC
Dear Alok
God didnt create us
we created him
how would your message be delivered
when god is just an imaginative character ?
but you are real
i am real
she is real
he is real
shall I call you "she"
shall I call you "he"
lets figure out
who you are
you have *****
I have ******
you put dark lipstick
I put light colored
you put heavy make-ups
I keep it as simple as it is
you wear bra without anything to hold inside
and you keep it all open
I wish not to make people know i wear bra
I try to keep it as secret as it can be
though you say
you neither want to be called a woman
nor a man
why not men's wear then?
why women's wear you chose?
first decide who you are
what's the difference?
is it the gender or is it something else ?
your vulgarity was tolerated
coz it was you
if it was me
i would have named a ****
by the same crowd
who found you inspirational
in this case I am ditched
not you
coz you still are a man inside women's dress
you are man
your ***** makes you one
gender is not a problem
problem is your sexuality
not only your sexuality
but mine
his
everyone's
what matters here is commitment
love matters very little
*** is a taboo
sexuality is a taboo
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 7:00 AM UTC
ensorcelled - the day burns and burns
the dusk is filled with ashen husks
and white flies swirling in the wind
different kind of bittersweet day
like a girl who ditched you at a good movie
a sunset lighting the boughs up at 2PM
like a good day despite the world on fire
pretty and futile; like throwing selfies on an insta
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
150 down a main road
Ditched the 5'O
****** off, angry
Him running his mouth's
the only music playing
Different dealers on hold
Oh baby, please don't lose control
I've gambled makin money (in not so good ways) lots in my time,
& each time I did it, made myself a pretty dime
But this round fella's
This games gettin old
Drop my cards to the table
I'm out
I fold.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Gunboats ahoy there’s pirates about
Speeding from Somali’s shore,
A fast flimsy boat and some black skinny men
With grenade launchers, cannon and more.
They’re coming to capture the tankers
They’re coming to capture the crew
They’re coming to take you hostage
Because fat cats will pay cash for you.
It’s happening more every day now
Ships are held to ransom for gold,
This contagion is out of hand now
The Somalian pirates are becoming so bold.
Hard men in the west prepare crackdowns
Gunboats sail for the Gulf as we speak,
With instructions to shoot to **** now
And make eradication of pirates complete!
But you ask, why is this happening?
Why does a man, a pirate become?
What instigates this crazy morphosis
From fisherman to pirate with gun?
Somalia has no Government to speak of,
It collapsed and went long ago.
No law or army in place here,
Life is dangerous, chaotic and low.
Some fat cats made use of the vacuum
They ditched toxic waste in the sea
They irradiated the coastline region
Making this a poisoned place to be.
The coast folk were dying in thousands
Sick mothers lost babies and kids
Black illness spread madly in villages
Then blind panic and pain hit the skids.
Some fat cats made use of the vacuum
They trawled the coastline clean
Somalia’s fishermen were destitute
The catch went from vast to lean.
The villagers were starving and hopeless
And what was pain became death.
The leaders appealed for salvation
But those with the means, had turned deaf.
Who would take this problem on now?
Who would make these ******** pay?
Most turned around and shunned them,
The world had turned and looked away.
So hit transgressors where they’re vulnerable.
Strike in sea lanes where it’s free.
Hit them near the Horn of Africa.
Attack with blades of piracy.
Hooray for the small man’s justice.
Hooray for his skinny, black shanks,
Please God help their quest for deliverance
For the West has arrived with their tanks.
Now I ask you, in all fairness
To stand back and view the scene,
Where the richest and most powerful
are doing something that's obscene
For not only are they poisoning
The most vulnerable race on earth
But compounding it with genocide,
And I add, for what it's worth,
The West, in righteous arrogance,
are crushing poorest fellow man
In his struggle for survival
Against their mammoth, global hand.
Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
25 April 2009
Jan 19, 2010
Jan 19, 2010 at 7:33 PM UTC
Dearest Reader,
My name is Margot Dylan, and I'm a pariah.
On the 16th of April, I told my mother that I was gay. She threw the clay mug that I made for her before she found out I was gay, against the floral, peeling wallpaper mess of a wall, in our kitchen. The decaffeinated peppermint green tea left a wonderful aroma that almost cleansed the room of the stench of 'lesbian'.
I met Dylan Dunham a few days after that, and, a few days later, she was the first girl that I ever loved.
Dylan wore a red flannel jacket, and was a butch and sometimes a bitch-but I loved her even at her tomboy cruelest.
Dylan smoked a cigarette that smelled like lonerism, and she looked at me like she didn't care. My heart skipped a beat, as cliche as it sounds, whenever she would remove the cigarette from her mouth, exhale, and look at me as smoke traveled up her face. I looked at her and knew that she was everything that I wasn't, and everything that I wanted.
Dylan was Dianne, before and after school. Dylan was Dianne, who wore floral dresses and lipstick and who ditched her butch clothing in her locker before leaving. Dylan was Dianne, who was straight and who thought Tyler Wesson, from church, was cute. Dylan was Dianne, who had a short hair cut because of track and field, because she explained that she ran a faster time with less hair. Dylan was Dianne, who didn't associate with me before or after school because her parents knew that I was gay.
During school hours, the only thing Dylan did keep from Dianne was the lipstick. I was envious of the cigarette because of it's burgundy stains. We would stand in a stall, as she looked across from me, after each drag. She frequently offered her cigarettes, but I refused because I only let love **** me. If she ever brought alcohol, sometimes she'd kiss me. I told her that I loved her and she said, "I know."
The only thing that Dylan kept from me was my heart, before she started to smoke cigarettes in the bathroom with Annie Way.
I wish you the best moments so they can overcome the worst,
Margot Dylan
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
He asked about me in the first meeting.
he was so curious to know the whole time, we were talking.
what should I tell, what should I hide?
my life is so confusing it never was a joyride.
being emotional, I end up hurting.
I am not the one who loves flirting.
believe in giving all or nothing
every time it's easy for me to trusting.
failed so many time yet not learning,
As soon as I become comfortable life starts turning.
got ditched so many times still friendly.
Always fall in Pitts more than deadly
Low in confidence, thinking negative.
serve myself for people to take benefit.
knowing yet not doing anything for the betterment
world is moving fast and talk about empowerment.
with all these flaws I still, love myself
those who cheat will pay themself.
I won't change, I never become you.
will always be loyal and to myself true.
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 4:17 AM UTC
Birds chirp, the winds blow,
And as the sun sets, we give the day a bow.
Clean Colorado accommodates commoners from Lincoln's Land.
We've ditched the silt and the sand;
Stranded in a glimpse of a possible past, here I stand.
Elated by elevation, tranced by trepidation,
the group's gaze encounters a misty haze,
Followed by copious amounts of precipitation.
Pick up the pace; though we won't win the race
To the dry car and a full case.
Hell is the home of a heathen's heart;
Heaven holds promise a bright new start.
Existence on earth extends only for so long;
For now we're here, soon to be gone.
Early mornings shed light on a promising day;
Late nights cast spells we drunkenly obey
Perched in a chair by a growing fire,
the consuming flames ascend higher and higher.
Ignited embers blown astray,
Trails of smoke follow its prey.
Back on the highway.
Homeward bound, the only sounds
Are the stories and gestures that say
Not what we lost, but what we found.
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 10:27 PM UTC
I hoped that she will improve now,
Instead she's on a downward curve.
She got out of one LDR back at that time,
Only to fall into a longer one with him.
Haryana is closer to Punjab if compared,
Mauritius is so distant for another LDR.
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 2:24 AM UTC
I give him love,
I do what he says,
But what do i get?
I get ditched !
Heart broken,
Beyond repair,
I wait for you all day,
All night,
Cancelling all my schedules,
But what do i get?
Not called,
Ignored !
You're ungrateful,
And thankless.
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 5:23 AM UTC
Am I the only one to think
that a kite is such a sad thing?
Flimsy...frail...
never really free,
forever tied to a string
Yes, it can soar indeed,
so high, with the wind taking it places,
almost making it forget,
just enjoying the wind rushing through,
lighthearted
The wind drops,
then it gets snared
among tree branches maybe,
or perhaps stuck on a roof or elsewhere
with its string all tangled and knotted,
almost impossible to untangle
if made with paper,
it should be lucky to still be intact,
with nary a tear
more often than not,
it gets ditched in the trash,
the price to pay for
its momentary freedom
Sometimes, though
perhaps a rarity these days,
there is that boy who makes
that kite from scratch,
whittles the sticks himself,
painstakingly forming that frame,
creating that kite with love
So when it does get all tangled up,
that boy still tries so hard to fix it,
to make it new...
never minding the cuts
he gets in the process--
That string not meant to tie down
that kite,
but a lifeline to the boy
But like I said,
that must be a rare thing these days...
For I am one to think
that a kite is such a sad thing...
Flimsy...frail...
never really free,
forever tied to a string
Sep 13, 2011
Sep 13, 2011 at 3:38 AM UTC
Are you proud of who I am now ma?
I think I've cut deep enough...
Into the flesh of our relationship, I think I've given up.
I'm tired of trying so hard to be crushed beneath the weight.
Everything I try and do, you seem to ******* hate.
Are you proud of me now ma?
I seem to be down low.
Lower than six feet underground, lower than you'd care to go.
All to make you happy, all to see you smile.
Just to be ditched on the street, to learn you had left for quite awhile.
I sat there wishing I had done just what could have made you stay.
But then I got to thinking, **** wasting my life away.
Then you decided to come back, messing up my day.
Why the hell are you back?! No one needs you or your ****
After all, you left me and I was the one who took your hit.
For many years of my life I tried to make you proud.
But here I am now, not worried what you think of me.
Because after years of suffering for you, I have been set free.
Don't you know it is wrong to put a little kid through that life?
Don't you know you should have stopped your child from picking up that knife?
How proud are you to know, your baby girl got locked away in a ****** unit?
I used to see you as perfect, but the last time you left me ruined it.
So now, just stay away from me, it's the least that you can do.
And see that I hate you, and you should hate yourself too!!!
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
Her eyes were cold,
Her lips were pale,
Her heart was frozen,
Her smile was broken,
Her soul was empty,
Her face was spotted with regrets and pain,
Her mind was possessed by some unknown powers,
Her emotions were burried when she was a young girl,
She was a peacock in a cage,
Beautiful but locked.
She had no words and no voice
For silence ruled her.
Her memory was her enemy
For it left her alone everytime.
Her fears? They were uncountable, infinty.
Her thoughts? They would haunt her.
Her dreams? They failed.
Her people? They ditched.
She was a dead flower,
No color, no fragrance,
Only thorns attached
And petals crushed.
That was her identity.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 4:18 AM UTC
Come see black night. Black night proposes
more
Than madness in a prophet's dream, sets free
A lean uncertainty, sweet taste of all
We dare not see.
My sweet Kathryn, you were older than me,
Knew all the black mountains--Olson, Creely, Duncan, Morley, Dorn... While I
was learning
Levertov. Your dark, unshaven armpits
Drove me wild. I understood the honor
Of that crazy night--how could feather leave you--
our dance at the outlaw bar,
Your sapphic gaze bemused by coal miners,
In cowboy boots, as the band played Haggard,
Coe, Willie, Waylon, Johnny Cash, Kristofferson
& Emmy Lou. I wouldn't trade it for a date
With Miss Brazil, or Russia as it were--
Some people say you made that up,
Changed heritage and grew the hair to seem more European. I couldn't care
Less. A great dark mystery I loved
Now thirty-seven years ago with me
Just old enough to drink and you come down
From Bingington, I loved the way you said
That frozen town, where your husband lingered,
Teaching English to native speakers.
I know you still loved him. I think you loved
Me, but needed a woman's touch the same
As I. Strange how a night can be recalled
More than years, one drunken naked sunrise,
Pillow talk instead of class. I ditched the speech
At PBK, can't remember what they
Fed us, coming for you in a straight shift
Chevy pickup, red as the night was black.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
I thought till yesterday,
She was true anyhow,
Even as she ditched me.
But now a ****** name is here,
The Catalyst,
She was cheating me.
In search of the greater good,
She dumped me back then,
But she got back what she gave.
"The Catalyst",
Chose someone else,
Someone better looking.
She is never satisfied with herself,
Always looking for more beauty,
Physical beauty is what she sought.
And look at the comedy of life,
Sharvish sought the same,
He found someone more beautiful.
She was served rightly,
For her unfaithfulness,
For ditching true love for fakeness.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
I don't like being called "good girl" anymore.
Not because I don't like the way you say it, or why you're saying it. No.
I don't like being called "good girl" because of a man.
I met him at a party, my friend ditched me.
I was watching everyone around me relax and have fun, but I was so tense.
He must have picked up on my weakness, like a predator to prey.
He handed me a drink and kept me company, he said I looked nervous.
He told me to relax and to take a hit off his joint.
I didn't want to be there anymore, but I tried to take his advice.
We sat on the floor near the double doors and he told me I still looked nervous.
He said I had no reason to be that he'd never let anything happen to me.
I just laughed because he only just met me.
Next thing I remember I wasn't feeling too good, my head was dizzy...no cloudy, and the floor was the ceiling.
I remember his eyes on me, so hungry.
I remember his hands on me, whereas mine were incapable of moving.
He couldn't meet my eyes and I couldnt remember where we were or how we got there, but it wasn't by the double doors anymore.
I remember noises, the dim lighting around us, I tried to focus on anything and everything else.
I was screaming, but I don't actually know if the noise came out.
I remember the hot tears that slid down my face as he slid over my body.
I was a toy, I couldn't do anything, I was a puppet to his whim.
He stoked my face occasionally and said I was a good girl, that I didn't need to be nervous, that I was a good girl, to just take it.
I remember wailing, his hand covering my mouth, my lips bruising, my body throbbing.
I haven't seen myself the same since, there wasn't anyone I felt safe with, not a hand that didn't feel like his.
I get sick at the thought of him, at the thought of that act he forced me to commit.
I didn't know his name but I knew his face because it haunts my dreams.
I scare easy now, I want to hide but sleep can't even save me.
I didn't want to be a good girl, I never wanted to be a good girl.
So please...please.
Don't call me one.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
While referring to me
She previously used it to mean a
Very Important Person.
But now I've realized
My mistakes & worth in her life as a
Very Idiotic Person.
I used to care so much for her
I was protective for her future
My directions were my misgivings
This is what she thought of my advice.
She grew sick of my advice
She used to not follow it and suffer
She wasted eons stuck in the bog
All that after eating Punjabi junk food
And guess what, she prefers suffering health problems
And wasting her precious time in pain
She ditched me instead of abandoning junk food.
But to tell my young girlfriend
To follow a discipline in her life,
Is it such a grievous crime by me?
Whatever you might say,
She ditched me for it,
Like she did 2 years back.
She will think, *'Atul is a true lover,
He'll wait for me to repent,'*
I am neither that ever forgiving God,
Nor I'm an idiot to again forgive,
I have moved on bearing at helm the self-respect I managed to preserve,
But she's surely not the one for me,
And I no longer care who's mine,
I'll live with that apparently egotistic persona.
Because I have kissed death once,
I realize what my standing in life means,
To me, I am the most important person now,
I'll live my life on my own terms,
Alone if I must.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
You said you would be here forever.
Where are you now?
You said you would never leave me.
Where are you now?
You said that you would always catch me when I fell.
Where are you now?
You made promises you couldn't keep.
You said things you didn't mean.
You shattered my heart into a million pieces.
You abandoned me.
Left when I was at my most vulnerable.
Now I'm left here all alone.
You were my safety net.
But you ditched me and took off.
When you left, it hurt so bad.
I've never felt so weak,
So powerless,
So unloved.
It's all because of you.
So many unanswered questions,
I would love to know the answers to.
Why aren't you still here?
Why did you leave me?
What am I supposed to do?
But the question that pains me the most,
The one that breaks me,
Is the one I have been asking,
Ever since you disappeared.
Where are you now?
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
I remember when I first met you, there was a spark. I loved you, and though you didn't swing that way (your being gay and I being female) I wanted, above anything else, to be your friend. Over the span of three weeks, we ditched the "getting-to-know-you stage," as you phrased it, and I told you everything. I needed to tell someone everything, and I never realized that you didn't tell me anything of your own. Friendships, like all relationships, must be give-and-take. Rather, it was give-and-be-taken-from. But I didn't care... I needed to have someone know. And you listened to my depression and my problems and gave advice that was logical rather than what I wanted to hear, and I loved it. And we went to parties—my first, actually—and danced and held hands and I pretended. When I broke down on your shoulder at one in the morning you asked if you should come over, you offered to be there when my leg had been bleeding for an hour. But now it's gone. After four weeks of pure bliss, something went wrong. I don't tell you things, because you ignore me. I get along better with your friends than I do with you. And I hate it and I cry myself to sleep over it. Because I need you, not only to cry on, but as a friend. As a stable rock to lean on.
And you're gone now, like I will be soon.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
*Strip into segments the colours of life
At the birth of my sons, loving my wife,
Like the moment of truth when, whilst shivering clear,
I went eyeball to eyeball with that, which I fear.
Like the time when the engine went dead in the plane
And I ditched in the pines to confirm the insane.
When my Father collapsed and died in my arms
And childhood departed with God and his Psalms.
When I first kissed a girl’s soft velvety lips
And felt, with wild rapture, my hands on her hips.
Discovered ripe apricots fresh from the tree
Taste sweeter than nectar collected by bee.
Felt the presence of death compellingly near
Though the body was wracked, the thinking was fear.
Climbed impossible peaks that I dreamt I perceived
To weep the hot tears in a life’s goal achieved.
Laughed loud and long with the wind in my hair
Yet cried when an enemy lost to despair.
Pondered the mystery of what’s round the bend
Concluded beginnings are part of the end.
Compiling the rules to maintain my space
Lie in keeping the oddballs out of my face.
Clasping friends, so few, to my breast
Embracing the true and to hell with the rest.
Committing my time to my one darling wife
And thanking the Gods for this colourful life!*
Marshalg
Sitting in the long summer grasses
3 Decemeber 2012
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 9:34 PM UTC
Let me tell you a story about a guy named Akshant,
He belonged to Mathura in India, once the city of Krishna.
He was born on 23rd of December in the year 1990,
It was a stormy & rainy night when he was born.
Krishna was born under much similar conditions,
He was taken to safety away from his wretched uncle,
Time is exactly as the glorious & glorified mythology has it.
Akshant spent his early life much like any other kid,
Just the difference was that he was totally alone.
He spent his teenage in similar lonely circumstances,
Akshant searched for love all his teenage but to no avail,
Time gave a lonely -read tough- early lifetime to Akshant this way.
Akshant met a deadly accident on the highway,
And he went into a long & carefree coma.
As Akshant slept he took their breath away,
But they prayed for him to come out of the coma.
Time has its own ways of teaching lessons & for him it chose this way.
Akshant had been wasting his time in the search of love,
Ignoring the words of parents, his studies & friends.
His girlfriend ditched him for a fit & fine guy,
Who could take her out on dates unlike our Akshant.
Time had its own wicked ways of making him pay for the wrongs he did.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 7:41 AM UTC
Jenifer Garner looked every inch the mom in control as she and estranged husband Ben Affleck picked up their daughters from karate class.
The actress, 43, strode out ahead clutching her cell phone in one hand and car keys in her other as the Argo star, also 43, followed behind with Violet, nine, and Seraphina, six, and carrying a canvas shopping bag.
Garner also had her wedding ring back on, but on the middle finger of her left hand and not the ring finger.
Affleck, though, seems to have ditched his wedding ring altogether.
He hasn't been seen with it on for a couple of weeks at least, although when they first split the pair had made it known they'd still keep the gold bands on around their kids.
Rumors had started to swirl of a possible reconciliation between the two after they were seen leaving couples counseling together in Sana Monica on September 4.
But sources close to them moved quickly to quash any suggestion they might get back together, saying they were simply seeking professional help to guide them through the changes that divorce brings.
Affleck was a doting dad on Friday as he smilingly shepherded his daughters to the car as they snacked on apples.
The Good Will Hunting actor was dressed casually in an olive green t-shirt, black jeans and sneakers.
Seraphina wore a pretty light blue pinafore dress with a matching hairband and her favorite purple and pink Nike trainers.
Violet wore an all black workout ensemble with turquoise athletic shoes.
Not with them was the girls' younger brother Samuel, who's three.
The estranged couple are back in LA after Garner spent most of the summer filming Miracles From Heaven in Atlanta, Georgia, and Affleck was reprising his role as Batman for Suicide Squad in Toronoto, Canada.
With those projects in the can, it means they can focus more time on caring for their children as their divorce moves forward.
Affleck is also prepping his next project Live By Night, a Prohibition-era drama that he's written and plans to star in and direct.
The film based on the novel by Denis Lehane and set in Boston is scheduled to start filming in November.
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/sexy-formal-dresses
www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-perth
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC