"manu" poems
Through years of my prime
I walked with a heart
crazy about love.
I wanted my heart to bloom
and shelter a shadow of love.
when the heart was soaked in passion
and was wet,
I wanted to wrench it dry
on love itself.
I wanted to paint a picture,
in indelible print, across
the canvass of my heart.
I stand today
in front of the Taj Mahal.
I watch the marble smiling
as the sunlight gives it a touch.
I feel gusts of wind
gone mad
as they come across
the heights of love here.
I listen to the music, waking in
the dream-eyed visitors' quiet hearts.
I am tipsy after my
own feelings
themselves have become wine.
I forget myself, world and all.
I don't know
whether I'm thinking of Shah Jahan,
Mumtaj or myself.
I'm quite disillusioned, stupefied,
enveloped under an expanding heart.
Shah Jahan who proved
an emperor to be shorter than a lover,
who turned a grave into a temple
who gave his beloved a place of God
and converted love into a prayer.
there exists one difference between
us two.
he was all in all, and if
I'd ever grown prosperous like he was,
I'd not have waited for my beloved's death
before I erected a Taj Mahal.
(Translated from Nepali by Manu Manjil)
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 1:35 PM UTC
HAPPY BDAY SINI HOLANI FUNAKI MANU
YOU ARE DA BESTZ DAD, UNKLE, PAPA, NEPHEW OR WHATEVA, LOL
Ma'u ha 'aho fiefie, ‘Oku ou ‘ofa ‘ia koe
xxoxx :)
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 3:44 PM UTC
Smiling, laughing, jumping
Beaming with extravagant light
He ran through the meadows hoping
That his father would take him to the wonder Park tonight
But his father couldn’t make it
Since he had a night shift
And little Jimmy couldn’t resist
His innocent tears from dripping
He tried hard to pull his tears in
But they shamelessly slipped
His mother patted his back asking him
To be a strong guy
As according to her and this Utopian world
“Boys don’t cry”
Young Jimmy walked with a sore eye to his house
After getting bullied by Big Barry Fry
His father asked him to man up and stop being a mouse
As according to him and many a folks alike
“Boys don’t cry”
He smashed the ball into the goal
Leading his team to victory
And flung into his father’s arms
Wishing to achieve his sympathy
Adolescent years passed by
Times came which made him want to cry
But he had to hide his tears
As according to this ideal world
“Boys don’t cry”
Time passed
His dreams did shatter ripping him apart
Devastation gripped him breaking his heart
But still he pulled his tears back
He had to try!
Because according to this flawless world
“Boys don’t cry”
The summer of ’59 brought him lady luck
But who knew, innocent Jimmy
Had turned into an evil schmuck
Bruising his wife to death
Gave him eternal peace and rest
Making up for all those moments
Which were supposed to be dry?
As now even according to him
“Boys don’t cry”
~Manu M.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
Sorry mom I couldn’t be
The child prodigy
You always wanted
Me to be
Sorry dad I couldn’t be
The most intellectual
Of them all like you imagined
Me to be
I couldn’t be the dutiful
Trophy daughter
You always wanted
Forgive me Papa
Though I know not whose
Fault is the sourness
That dwells between us
Maybe, it is the fact,
That you wanted me to
Stand out in the crowd
And I chose to sink
Deep in the ocean.
~Manu M.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 5:11 AM UTC
The whirlpool, it spins,
while the mountain, it twists.
As two serpents entwined,
are surrounding this.
Some had once claimed,
that it started as a bear,
others claimed it began at Canopus,
way over, down there.
Multi-headed or spring of rocks,
cavern, mountain or egg,
a great wheel forever-turning,
with a circus and a one leg!
Pushed along by two giants,
grinding up salt with its gear,
thus responsible for the seasons,
floods and movements and the year.
Two horns of the monster,
but not found on its head,
the Earthen plane a giant treasure,
where Drakon made his bed,
with two stars on his brow,
like the two in his eyes,
the porthole of the ship,
a flying horse in disguise.
Scylla, Charybdis,
Jason, Argos, Deucalion,
Ziusdra, Manu, Noah,
-and the two birds who carry on,
and the mountain from below,
which they all rested upon.
Ameleth or Kullervo,
…and brother Utamo’s great wrong,
…and the whirlpool from above that created this song!
And the evil found inside us, the Id and its kin, will nurture the abused child and continue the sin. The great black wheel of madness, as always, will spin, churning out more abusers to fill the Hell that we’re in. When, where or how did the wheel of blackness start? Corrupting the love and joy into the evil in man’s heart and turning family into tragedy and tearing them apart? Next time you feel weak and let the succubus inside, just remember all those in Hell and the reasons they died.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
They met at a tea shop. There, the three apprentices emptied their cups to learn about the secrets of the elixir. Its key ingredient was the power to create, hidden deep within the seed they each carried.
From the tea shop, they left their cups on the table and set out with their seeds in search of the elixir. The first apprentice, named Datta, was a monk. He climbed to a monastary in the mountains and planted his seed in prayer. The second apprentice, named Mark, was a Renaissance man. He locked himself in a studio and planted his seed in art. The third apprentice was a non-believer. He doubted whatever he saw. Still, he went through the motions, planting his seed with a sense of wonder he lost over time.
No matter how far they went, they ended up back at the tea shop, seeds in hand. The secret of the elixir was beyond their grasp.
Tea cups emptied, they asked Manu the teamaster for directions.
“Where do we start: point A, B, or C?”
“And which way do we go from there: left or right?”
The teamaster said nothing. He knew what was on their minds.
He picked up the stick he used to stir tea with and pointed the way.
Somehow, one seed moved.
It didn’t matter which path they chose.
The opposite direction would have worked just as well.
The teamaster’s lesson was there was more than one way up the mountain.
Knowing this, the apprentices each took their seeds and set out once again from the tea shop.
The monk escaped to his temple, the Renaissance man to his studio, and the non-believer to the shadows of his doubts.
Because they never left their comfort zones, they all ended up back at the tea shop empty-handed, their paths intertwined.
They asked the tea master to just show them how to brew the elixir, so they didn't have to keep searching.
The tea master put down the stick he used to stir tea with and told them to empty their cups.
The lesson was about the illusion of separation: what the apprentices saw as separate and different paths were really one and the same.
The teamaster took one seed and threw it away. He took the other seed and threw it away. He told them to focus only on the seed in the middle, for they were all searching for the same thing.
Still, the three apprentices got nowhere and ended up back at the teashop.
The tea master saw that his lesson wasn’t getting through.
So he taught them a secret:
even if you take the seed and throw it away, it stays with you.
When you empty your teacup, you let the seed fall from your hand.
It was a lesson in letting go.
With the seeds gone, how many are left in the middle, they wondered.
All of them. The tea master pointed to the center cup.
The apprentices finally understood. They threw their seeds away and left the tea shop.
There was no elixir at the top of the mountain. It was just water.
And when you add water to seeds, they grow.
Years later, the three returned to the tea shop with the wisdom of a mountain forest and a plant sprouting from each of their cups.
Apr 24, 2021
Apr 24, 2021 at 8:10 PM UTC
“Julio is sweet
Julio is smart
Julio is a sweetheart”
Julio is Julia’s love
Julio and Julia both are Portuguese
Former for namesake, latter at heart
Julio’s America born
Writer he is but no ordinary
Languages French, Portuguese, German, Spanish
All flow through his soul
Virtuoso is the word they use to describe his artistry
And it was for one of his poems that he won Julia’s heart
Poem was 'Meu Coração'
Recited it was in Lisbon, Portugal
Near a beautiful eye catching lagoon
On a sunny busy day; Julia vividly remembered
Today was the day they stole each others' hearts
That is what led to this decision
Of trying a poem for her beloved
But the catch was she was trying to write in English
Her English was even worse than their old Spanish janitor
But she was not one to shy off from challenges
So she tried one more time-
“Julio is sweet
Julio is smart
Julio is a sweetheart
Julio makes me smile
Julio makes me laugh
Julio makes me blush
Julio makes me warm
Julio is my love
Julio is my heart
Julio is my heart”
The poem to her seemed terribly plain but effective
And no matter how hard she tried
It felt as if the words were stapled in her brain
And then she jumped like a kangaroo
As the doorbell rang
Put on her slippers and hurried towards the door
Opened it and leaned forward to kiss him gently
She always knew when Julio was at the door
He was her Julio, her desire, her dream
Smiling at her, his eyes home to the bluest sea
They kissed again and this time more slowly
Letting the magic settle in the air more properly
Julia went to the kitchen and brewed some coffee
While Julio went to shower and as he removed his shirt
He saw a paper on the bed, bent he to hold it in his hand
And the lines on his face smoothened and turned into a nostalgic smile
Julia was busy making espresso Julio’s favorite
When Julio entered , the somehow, roulette shaped kitchen
With a paper in his hand on which stretched Julia’s curvy handwriting
“Oh! Wrote that poem for you I titled it ‘My Heart’
Not very flamboyant, simple like you
Hope you’d appreciate my hard work”
Said she, as if the words were sewn in her heart
Then all of a sudden both erupted into laughter
Laughter filled with a sweet secret each beheld
Lucky enough I was to have known their little secret
Years ago, similar words had crusaded Julia's heart
Near a beautiful eye catching lagoon;
On a sunny busy day in Lisbon, Portugal.
~Manu M.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
~ I dreamed a dream yet still it seems
a life of deja-vu ~
*Kings & Queens
Scripted leaves of Velveteen
Picturesque & Celestine*
My honor lay in balance
of the Two
was I to marry??
*I am in love with a Lady of the Jeweled Fauna
Yet bred of royal dread,
be deemed to marry
the one and only appointed Queen.*
I died alive
from the tears I cried
I heard the voice
of Heaven sigh,
*"Manu,
the Sky is Wide
Reflected in your Eyes"*
Tear through the Veil to the Life you decide...
so
*I fled from the Halls of Ajanta
through the caves I arrived at Ellora.
I threw down my Crown
and turned back around...*
Then suddenly,
just like a Switch
the nakedness of Flesh on Flesh.
Sliding in
I pushed, She pulled
On top
from the back
We rocked, then rolled
in our Song
we were lost
as we echoed
the Caves with our Love.
Not Once or Twice
My honor lay in balance
of the Two
was I to marry??
*~ I dreamed this dream yet still it seems
a life of deja-vu ~*
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Seraphic in form
He promised to end the storm
Setting me in a trance
He pulled out a lance
To rescue he had to carve my naked armor
So I stood vulnerable on the rejuvenating harbor
I held the scrunched hand of my Mariner
As we sailed together over the rough waters
But soon I realized that his service was a sham
His shadows had deceived me to believe he was my guiding lamp
Contrary to the promises he slashed my trust
With knives, blades made of inhuman lust
That wretched soul turned me into a wreck
A forgotten flotsam, as I continued on the arduous trek
Merciless the journey grew, I was reaching my nadir
But hungry still was the counterfeiter’s stare
An alarm signaled him that his prey was out of blood
He waited to remove me like a **** with his stump spud
Thunderous, monstrous the gory battle raged
He bathed under the scarlet running of my veins, deranged
He devoured me till the very end
Corpse I was but undead
His wrath had turned me incredibly fragile and frail
So before he could end this life,
I jumped in the treacherous cascade following a much peaceful trail
~Manu M.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
Extravagance is amusing
But oh! Mother
Glamour can never out power
Thy love, so sumptuous
Thy hugs and kisses
Have brought my peccant soul
Back to the place of its origin
I beg thou to pardon me
And consummate me
With your embrace, so sweet
The svelte Modus Vivendi
In which I was occupied
Its fraudulence I have realized
Oh! Dear father
I do not care about
Those puffy cushions
And velvet blankets
All I want is thy forgiveness
That’ll spread fragrance of bliss
Across my soul
For I have returned to my home,
Come rejoice
As thy daughter salvaged
Herself from a path
Laden with sinful gold
Sailed I have the sea of redemption
But my resolve would not
Purify without thy acceptance
Save me! My Guardians
And let me end my repentance
With the touch of thy affection.
~Manu M.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC
Look over my shoulders
Problems big as a boulder
So I peep from s distance
Scavengers coming for me
And my ****** family
Tricked us into slavery
And no one cares to find us G
So I gotta fight with every instinct
Cuz my brother n sisters of my color
Almost extinct
New breed turn pink
Like the pigs eating slop n ****
Nothing but mess but I don't stress
Five hundred years of pain
And still get an arrest
Mad cuz I drive clean cars
And I don't wanna be the star
Just look at the nine in my hand
This Is the diary of mad man
Dear diary I can't help that I'm a rebel
I'm takin poetry to another level
Devils
All around me
But somehow they can't find me
Even to myself I'm a stranger
Filled with anger
Approach with caution or else face danger
Face to face with death
So I take a deep breath
My hearts steadily pounding
Sound the war chump
And bring on the violence
Been cut many afore
But I don't bleed easily so set up yo fort
No witness to survive
So bump out all that jive
I see trump in hibernation
Much luv to folk and disciple nation
Chicago standing they ground
Look how Manu brothers surround
The city with many weapons
Myself I gotta auto matic weapons
Just incase bloods gotta be sweep
No longer standing on yo feet
Rebirth of nation back again
It makes me proud to be a black Hebrew man this is the diary of mad man...
So what I dig deep from my guts
N don't give a **** about a ****
Or another *****
Tryna Chase figures but don't see the
Price of the real picture
****** is all I read
Cuz I'm the last of the dying breed
Enemies plotting against me
Neighborhood ****** ain't catchin me
Swift my moves put the needle to the grove
And watch how all the suckers move and prove
I got an art of war mentality
Learned How to **** from my great grand pappy hair *****
Loving it much as ****
Cuz I just don't give a ****
Making bucks from the clucks
Don't matters wither it be drugs prostitution or use vain profanity
In my rap sheets
My definitive is far from complete.
So go ahead and try to compete
But you get ensnared at crossroads man
Cuz this is diary of mad man!!!!
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 11:55 AM UTC
They say I am crazy
They say I am foolish
They say I am not worth it
A misfit burdening the world
I say I am crazy
I say I am foolish
I never say I am not worth it
I maybe a misfit but I have a dream
To share with the world my symphony
~Manu M.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 4:47 AM UTC
The weather is not brutal sir
The weather has got nothing on my watch
Today the turbulent storms are blasting the ruins
Tomorrow autumn would ensure growth of the ravaged masses
But what about the tornado that tears this heart each day
Who would calm it down?
In this unknown town
In this strange colony
Who would erase this LONELINESS written in block letters?
~Manu M.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC
your mum is gay
i dont know what to say
manu is a ***
he has small sags
sam is super man
but he ***** at being peter pan
lucy
usi
lemu
manu
sam
kefe
your dad
my dad
everyones dad is gay but my dad is the man
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 7:03 PM UTC
Together they stand
The Seven Sisters of India
Untouched, unexplored, isolated
The seven states of north east India
Assam, the gateway to this heavenly abode
Is the provider of tea leaves all through the world
Arunachal Pradesh, the Land of the rising sun
Attracts tourist from all over the world
Manipur, oval-shaped valley of blue mountains
Is the originator of Polo games
Meghalya, naturally the abode of clouds
Gives shelter to flora, fauna in large bounds
Mizoram, the land of the highlander Mizo people
Has the rivers and most vari colored hilly terrain
Nagaland rich in flora, fauna and evergreen forests
Is home to Great Indian Horn-bill and Naga tribes
Tripura, a landlocked hilly state with Manu river
Has a rich cultural heritage of music, fine arts, dance
With Sikkim as their only brother, natural beauty and exotic places
The seven sisters are indeed a Paradise Unexplored
© Neeloo 'NeelPari'
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
Do you know how many scars i have?
So many that it would take an eternity to count
But still this stupid heart fakes a smile
To save from the world's sympathetic sounds
Do you know how i got so many scars?
It was not a lethal accident
But a ruthless trap called love
Funny it is, as still this heart loves the giver
People assume that my happiness is real
To be authentic enough to plause
Aware they are not of the fact
That bloodshot these eyes are
Each night helping this poor heart
To shed some weight just for a while
~Manu M.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
The green of my veins
Shivers at the touch
Of your sleek fingers
Often I wander unarmed
In the mystic blue haven
Of your clear eyes.
Vulnerable, held prisoner
Ramshackled in your custody;
When finally our lips brush together
Yours as soft as rose petals
Of a rose newly slithered
From an unrequited bud
And like a floating lost dandelion
I fall in your ravenous embrace
Our souls slip into each other's
Tearing the curtains of shame
Aloof from the miseries of reality
Flooding in madness
Deeply, truly, neurotically
Drunk in love.......
~Manu M.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
A yogi sits in lotus pose deep,
Counting wisdom's beads, in thought's silent creep.
Body still, mind free, in peaceful sway,
A smile shines bright, lit by understanding's ray.
In awareness profound, life's cycles cease,
Transcending birth and death's eternal release.
You embody wisdom, gentle, sweet, and bright,
Living in hearts of millions, a guiding light.
The lotus' thousand petals unfold with grace,
Revealing your true nature, a radiant pace.
You are the light, the path that's true,
Guiding leaders forward, to a brighter hue.
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 10:56 PM UTC
He did not know happiness without her
He could only be happy with her
He felt lost and lonely when she wasn’t around
He couldn’t help but smile when she was around
He loved the sound of her laugh
He loved the birth mark on her neck
He loved the way she cried softly during movies in the theater hall
He loved the sparkle that never left her eyeballs
While she,
She knew happiness even without him
She could be happy without him
She felt free and elated when he wasn’t around
A tinge of insecurity outlined her smile when he was around
She liked his voice but loved hers
She liked his honey colored hair but felt hers were better
She liked his crooked smile but could have never loved it
She liked his eyes but loved the face that was reflected from them
She never said she loved him
She always said-“We’re friends”
But as time passed
She did not act very much like one
He assumed she had fallen for him
But she hadn’t
He fell in love with her
But she didn’t
From the moment he saw her
He thought that she was the one
And it was until later
When he realized that she wasn’t
She kept saying-“We’re friends”
And he did not understand why?
As they did nothing of the sort as friends did
When he asked him she said frowning
“I do not want to be more than friends”
The answer to him seemed pretty dry
She broke up and said it was meant to be
He shouted, cried and hit an unknown street
There were many fish in the pond he thought
But none matched her elegance
She was special, he thought,
She was special, maybe, because he loved her
She adored him
She was fond of him
But with him she was just not sure
Of what she was sure with John
When he heard this he was shocked
She had never asked him to love
But he did anyways
He gave her all that he had
Even when she hadn’t asked
Now he is loathing in a corner
And she, living her life with another
I wonder whose fault is that.
~Manu M.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 3:50 AM UTC
Shush, do not utter
Not now, hon
Oh! Dear let the cherry blossoms
Of our love blossom
Slowly, easily
In this orchard
As aromatic as daffodils
Newly out of their soft buds
Young and fresh just like us;
In the mist and chill of this dark night
Let us warm our
cocoons with endearment
My Jade Vine, at times blue luminous
And at times light green
Spread those shades on the open
Palate of my heart
Do not, not now hon
Leave this love unrequited
~Manu M.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 10:19 AM UTC
Manchester United are the best
They stand out above the rest
Manchester United we wear with pride
The red shirt
our favourite side
Old Trafford is our home ground
Manchester United we follow around
So many players with fantastic skills
It is so good to watch them
it's a thrill
We are the fans so very proud
When they run out on the ground
It is so true without a doubt
Manchester United is what we shout
Yes all this is true
We are red and definitely not blue
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
A boy once dreamt, not of teaching's creed,
But paths adorned with ambition's fire.
From commerce halls, where dreams proceed,
To B.Ed’s realm, bound by fate’s quagmire.
In SOE's corridors, where silence sways,
Among 250 souls, yet so alone.
The boy endured, through mundane days,
With steadfast hope, his dreams his own.
Mistakes of youth cast him in this tide,
Yet serendipity graced his strife.
Two mentors wise walked close beside,
Illuming the shadows of this life.
Peers spoke of gossip, in trivial vein,
While his sharp edges dulled in their midst.
Their demeaning chatter, a source of disdain,
Yet his lotus heart in mud persist.
Through Somai Bagh’s halls, he shone so bright,
In online realms, his spark sustained.
A sweet supervisor, her smile’s soft light,
Ignored his mischief, her patience unfeigned.
With winter’s breath, by fog’s embrace,
Chai warmed the bonds of hearts once new.
Serendipity smiled, her radiant face,
In her friendship, his solace grew.
To Manu ma'am's P. lab, he carried his art,
His words, his soul, unveiled that day.
A poet’s courage, a beating heart,
Recited verses in bold array.
The end now nears, of this tale so vast,
A chapter closes, yet dreams ignite.
Through trials endured, the boy holds fast,
A hero poised to claim his light.
So here he stands, with resolve anew,
Charming, steadfast, and free of dread.
It’s Kanishk, dear reader, bidding adieu,
A lotus grown where others tread.
By:- KANISHK
Jan 13, 2025
Jan 13, 2025 at 8:23 PM UTC
A trail of footprints- their cavities deep
Marked on these sandy dunes
Following these are misnomer winds
Blowing from foreign soil bereft of moisture, choking my throat
I cough out black blood
My thirst remains unquenched
As the sun casts its cannon
In my direction burning
The last strip of tolerance
The dusty, rogue sand storm
Unwilling to cease
Swirls around ******* my energy
And in the desolate air of pure abuse
I lie numb; The oasis of ecstasy
beyond my reach
The oil in my living wick has dried up
Penniless I happen to be
No money but work is ghastly
Thus, do not question or comment if this wick remains unlit tomorrow
For the path I treaded was mine ALONE
So let the end remain lonely too
~Manu M.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
The water in the stoup
was cold and my fingers
tingled like a bell
in a shallow wind,
Dom James took us novices
to a convent where he
had to say Mass
a young nun served us
coffee and cake
in a small room
away from the cloister
fresh faced and angelic
in her framed headgear,
Dei pulchritudinis,
the tall monk tolled
the cloister bell
before the office of Terce
black robed and thin of face,
ascoltare Dio nel
vostro cuore
the Italian monk said to me
as we laid the tables
in the refectory,
she held my pecker
in her two hands
like a snake charmer
charming,
George spoke of the coldness
about him his hands he said
stiffen in the coldness,
Dieu est proche même
dans nos heures sombres
the French monk said
when he saw me
looking down at my feet,
I snuggled between
her soft mounds
as she sang a Beatles' song
and I kissed her milkiness,
I fear not Satan
as much as I fear
those who fear him
said St Teresa of Avila
I read some place,
I twisted the apples
from the branches
as shown by the plump monk
(after Lunch) in the orchard
tempted to bite
but didn't placed
in a basket with the gentleness
of a child,
et quaerebant eum
tangere manu Dei,
Ambition said Gareth
quoting Spinoza
is the immoderate
desire for power,
I walked the dark cloisters
after Compline
the bell tolled me
to my early sleep,
the young nun's womb
was as closed
as a castle's keep.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
A name as a middle being “Featherson”
Manu people have general middle names, but prior my name was out of the ordinary
A middle name I will never ever use
In fact, it was a name that I totally refused
I don’t know what my Father was thinking of
If I went through life with a middle of Featherson
That is the reason when I was 15 I had my name changed
I didn’t want the Featherson to be in between
Too some people I am being just mean
My original name was Anthony Featherson Brown
Today I am Anthony Charles Blake
I am named after my Grandfather and a Celebrity Star
So what’s in a name?
It all depends if your middle name won’t make you feel shame
It’s your heart in what will remain
A name that you were born with, then later as different name waking up from a yond.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC