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"overshadow" poems
Do not let them overshadow your beauty with misconceptions. Everyone is beautiful, believe me- I know.
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Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 10:31 AM UTC
You ARE Beautiful
Twins of opposites, cradled upon Darkness & Light, Each brought up in the beauty That beholds each, Darkness looked upon all of it Surrounded, it had beauties not Seen, elegance beheld The sky at night, the opposite twin Sparkled, Flickering, Glints, Gentle pin drops in the heavens, Bringing a mergence of both "A beauty to behold" Down to earth all sleep Embraced in the  silence Entwined in night, The gift given away from  light And so Illumination Radiant Light Did end the time of  darkness And so one twin left for the others Time so shine on and all was seen In all it glory, but even in light there is Darkness But not of the twin, but of mankind's heart It was a contrast of the twins, Shifting, Changing, Mixtures Of both at once, But light was good For beauty shined through, every inch It gave light, nurturing growth That all reached for above As if to touch the giver of life, Darkness could have fun with light Taking the sky up before the light Eclipsing Overshadow Shrouding Taking the limelight away from its twin, But the mixture of both, excites Those below, the spectacle of each If only for a short time in the skies above, So the twins are of Darkness and Light Play with each ones given talent, They were mischievous but each held Their own beauty and dangers, But they are twins of opposites, From the beginning till the end of time.
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
Twins Of Opposites
There is burden on my creativity Cos I think i'm too good not to blow up with it. There is burden on my creativity Trying to balance the pride not to overshadow the joy. There is burden on my creativity Cos I've made folks believe this is the way. There is burden on my creativity Sigh! I can't fight writer's block yet. There is burden on my creativity I've made some sacrifices and I'm set on going all out. There is burden on my creativity I think I need to start blazing trails. There is burden on my creativity Dad must reap his fruits of labour. There is burden on my creativity I can't get out and start searching for jobs, not with this talent. There is burden on my creativity It needs to touch people souls. There is burden on my creativity I want peeps to get wowed. There is burden on my creativity I must be able to do it a bit more easy. There is burden on my creativity How can I amass wealth? My **** and kids must not sweat.
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
Burden on My Creativity.
Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude Which is not loneliness—for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee—and their will Shall overshadow thee: be still. The night—tho’ clear—shall frown— And the stars shall not look down From their high thrones in the Heaven, With light like Hope to mortals given— But their red orbs, without beam, To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee forever. Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish— Now are visions ne’er to vanish— From thy spirit shall they pass No more—like dew-drops from the grass. The breeze—the breath of God—is still— And the mist upon the hill Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token— How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries!
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4.5k
Spirits Of The Dead
My Kite The view of purplish branches upon the trees and Looking beyond grassy mountains on the horizon Bring back memories of my childhood days, Wading in a nearby creek and flying my kite before a sunlit sky And then recalling the wind beginning to blow. Magenta leaves would decorate Branches of both growing and fallen trees- Wild geese soared above and deer were running freely While my kite was carried upward by the wind As highly as those trees would ever grow. My kite I believed would carry that mysterious spirit deep inside of me Into which I had placed all my faith and trust The tail of my kite seemed to cross the sun, though far above me I feared the demons’ of the woodlands following me as I walked- But with strong assurance I pursued my kite wherever it would go. Dark clouds began to cover the sun one day and Branches upon the trees were seemingly blackening While lightening sharply illuminated the sky I believed a storm was rapidly approaching. As fright and haunting disbelief inside of my mind began to overshadow. . I have told others that my kite held within my protective soul which was always with me Because I saw it to be an angel dancing freely in the sky I believe my kite held inside the spirit of a seraph, That saved me from all that betrayed and hurt me As the voices inside of my mind had often told me so. Years have passed and that wind was always fierce and deceitful- Breaking the string with which I held my kite- I sadly watched it as it flew higher and higher towards the sky Until it disappeared behind those approaching darkening thunderclouds Vanishing beyond my sight- leaving me frightened and alone below. Years have also passed since I lost my kite which I believed was my guiding illumination People would laugh and say my mind had escaped reality Now I can see that there is no one to save me from those demons of this planet I still hide the pain of loss of my spirit of salvation behind laughter and a smile But that does not erase the void I feel inside and that is an unrelenting sorrow. Claudia Krizay
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
My Kite
My Kite The view of purplish branches upon the trees and Looking beyond grassy mountains on the horizon Bring back memories of my childhood days, Wading in a nearby creek and flying my kite before a sunlit sky And then recalling the wind beginning to blow. Magenta leaves would decorate Branches of both growing and fallen trees- Wild geese soared above and deer were running freely While my kite was carried upward by the wind As highly as those trees would ever grow. My kite I believed would carry that mysterious spirit deep inside of me Into which I had placed all my faith and trust The tail of my kite seemed to cross the sun, though far above me I feared the demons’ of the woodlands following me as I walked- But with strong assurance I pursued my kite wherever it would go. Dark clouds began to cover the sun one day and Branches upon the trees were seemingly blackening While lightening sharply illuminated the sky I believed a storm was rapidly approaching. As fright and haunting disbelief inside of my mind began to overshadow. . I have told others that my kite held within my protective soul which was always with me Because I saw it to be an angel dancing freely in the sky I believe my kite held inside the spirit of a seraph, That saved me from all that betrayed and hurt me As the voices inside of my mind had often told me so. Years have passed and that wind was always fierce and deceitful- Breaking the string with which I held my kite- I sadly watched it as it flew higher and higher towards the sky Until it disappeared behind those approaching darkening thunderclouds Vanishing beyond my sight- leaving me frightened and alone below. Years have also passed since I lost my kite which I believed was my guiding illumination People would laugh and say my mind had escaped reality Now I can see that there is no one to save me from those demons of this planet I still hide the pain of loss of my spirit of salvation behind laughter and a smile But that does not erase the void I feel inside and that is an unrelenting sorrow. Claudia Krizay
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happy birthday companion longtime years happy birthday be happy never be sad happy birthday my great friend and whose candle never die away never happy birthday I tell you on this day so that you are always like the sun so that you always have a ball like the sky is forever forever forever forever beautiful happy birthday i tell you my friend eternal friend my faithful who will not leave never came close to me which is like millions like a bright star with the day birthday I tell you happy birthday today and do not leave me be happy my friend be happy and meet you love and freedom this human let your candles burn just like you and let the rain not cloud happy birthday i tell you yesterday and today and I will always say my faithful faithful friend my real true true friend which I have never had an understanding knowing and feeling congratulations on your holiday great poet and let your soul always warm you and don't let this rain overshadow you he plays only for your happiness and fire he plays only for your coming and eternal love 21.10.18
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 10:06 AM UTC
On The Birthday Of Maxim Kulikov.
**Angel Come Angel Come; Come with a Whisper, With tongues of Mysta Come in the Night, And bring us the Light Come unto Mystery, To elude our Misery Angel Come- Angel Go** *Angel Come Come Like a River To Inhale this Fever Overshadow me with Shivers, To see me thus Thither Like a river Glorious, In a secret Joyous Angel Come; Angel Go* **Angel Come Remould my emotions, To fit my Devotions Come into the Dark; And get rid of the Black Encamp me in your Palms, To wrap me in your Arms Angel Come- Angel Go** *Angel Come Come into my Subconscious; Awaken my Unconscious Come like an arrowing Rain, Invade my narrowest Pain Let me hide my face in You; For I seek a space in You Angel Come: Angel Go* Ovi Odiete©
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Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 2:35 PM UTC
"ANGEL COME- ANGEL GO"
I want to be an inspiration. I want to have someone look up at me, My neck is too sore to keep looking up at everyone else. There are many that overshadow me. I try to get ahead and I reach out for the light, But the shadows that they cast are far too big. I have such big shoes to fill. But I’m still growing as a person, And that takes time. And maybe some day I will get my own pair instead, And they will fit me perfectly.
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Big Shoes
The long bleak halls that bear surprise, of mirrored shadows' invisible eyes; Cast visions that will soon repent, from illusive dreams' opaque fragments. The drafty corridors in frigid cold, where icy shards loom large and bold; A mansion where no one knows his place, exuding its echoes from time and space. Perhaps the wayward hours will appear, holding to account these walls of fear; While they search for evil's antidote, the complexity of answers remain remote. Yet hopeful images still seem at play, as smiles overshadow those paths of gray; Conquered souls are willed to start anew, when destiny's light shines into view. As witness to evolving notions here, once the winding road becomes so clear; Are glorified by heaven's pearly gate, from captivated souls consumed with faith.
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Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 3:06 PM UTC
Corridors Of Hope
I looked to the left and then to my right. I then took a look at the clouds. The rain began to drizzle and overshadow my soul. Its mist already settled comforting to my thoughts. I looked at the rain and finally it dropped into my eyes. To my surprise the feeling that gave me sanity was wrong. To my soul it does not belong but yet I dwell. Wrapped in imagination I bring love to my wounded mind. Kiss my soul, comfort my heart, drop with every drip. I feel it kissing me, damaging the inner me. This secret love affair is killing me. I look inside your window and there you are Family and all. You stare at me as any animal would watch their prey. She looks at you and wondered on your gaze. No secret to child, never amazed at this stage, But I can feel you, your thoughts. With every drip I’m lost in time, Though she is blind to future and past. The acid in the rain washes our secret away, As you blow a kiss to me with every drip of the rain. ©
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Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 6:50 PM UTC
Blow Me A Kiss In The Rain
~ I Live to Learn. And that's hard to do with a narrow mind That's why my eyes are open wide I don't want to miss a thing That this world has to offer Whether it be karma Or thy Heavenly Father Don't bother; I'll think what I want No one's going to tell me who to be Or what to believe. Have a mind of your own You've got to think for yourself Don't be blindly following somebody else And never let other's expectations Overshadow what you choose to believe in I choose to believe In the possibility of anything Of everything So what does that make me? An Agnostic? Or just simply weak? Neither. It makes me Free. ~ -S.A.-
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
On Religion
Thy bower is finished, fairest! Fit bower for hunter's bride-- Where old woods overshadow The green savanna's side. I've wandered long, and wandered far, And never have I met, In all this lovely western land, A spot so lovely yet. But I shall think it fairer, When thou art come to bless, With thy sweet smile and silver voice, Its silent loveliness. For thee the wild grape glistens, On sunny knoll and tree, The slim papaya ripens Its yellow fruit for thee. For thee the duck, on glassy stream, The prairie-fowl shall die, My rifle for thy feast shall bring The wild swan from the sky. The forest's leaping panther, Fierce, beautiful, and fleet, Shall yield his spotted hide to be A carpet for thy feet. I know, for thou hast told me, Thy maiden love of flowers; Ah, those that deck thy gardens Are pale compared with ours. When our wide woods and mighty lawns Bloom to the April skies, The earth has no more gorgeous sight To show to human eyes. In meadows red with blossoms, All summer long, the bee Murmurs, and loads his yellow thighs, For thee, my love, and me. Or wouldst thou gaze at tokens Of ages long ago-- Our old oaks stream with mosses, And sprout with mistletoe; And mighty vines, like serpents, climb The giant sycamore; And trunks, o'erthrown for centuries, Cumber the forest floor; And in the great savanna, The solitary mound, Built by the elder world, o'erlooks The loneliness around. Come, thou hast not forgotten Thy pledge and promise quite, With many blushes murmured, Beneath the evening light. Come, the young violets crowd my door, Thy earliest look to win, And at my silent window-sill The jessamine peeps in. All day the red-bird warbles, Upon the mulberry near, And the night-sparrow trills her song, All night, with none to hear.
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2k
The Hunter's Serenade
Thy bower is finished, fairest! Fit bower for hunter's bride-- Where old woods overshadow The green savanna's side. I've wandered long, and wandered far, And never have I met, In all this lovely western land, A spot so lovely yet. But I shall think it fairer, When thou art come to bless, With thy sweet smile and silver voice, Its silent loveliness. For thee the wild grape glistens, On sunny knoll and tree, The slim papaya ripens Its yellow fruit for thee. For thee the duck, on glassy stream, The prairie-fowl shall die, My rifle for thy feast shall bring The wild swan from the sky. The forest's leaping panther, Fierce, beautiful, and fleet, Shall yield his spotted hide to be A carpet for thy feet. I know, for thou hast told me, Thy maiden love of flowers; Ah, those that deck thy gardens Are pale compared with ours. When our wide woods and mighty lawns Bloom to the April skies, The earth has no more gorgeous sight To show to human eyes. In meadows red with blossoms, All summer long, the bee Murmurs, and loads his yellow thighs, For thee, my love, and me. Or wouldst thou gaze at tokens Of ages long ago-- Our old oaks stream with mosses, And sprout with mistletoe; And mighty vines, like serpents, climb The giant sycamore; And trunks, o'erthrown for centuries, Cumber the forest floor; And in the great savanna, The solitary mound, Built by the elder world, o'erlooks The loneliness around. Come, thou hast not forgotten Thy pledge and promise quite, With many blushes murmured, Beneath the evening light. Come, the young violets crowd my door, Thy earliest look to win, And at my silent window-sill The jessamine peeps in. All day the red-bird warbles, Upon the mulberry near, And the night-sparrow trills her song, All night, with none to hear.
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A graveyard speaks in gentle groans, While winds whisper to lonely hills, Chilling stoic standing stones, That display cold names departed, That overshadow buried bones, And shade the brokenhearted. Climbing vines grasp as they creep, Turmoil settles as winds calm. Distressed decades drift to sleep. A moment to rest anguished ages. Yet dirt sown remains to reap, Wisdom of forgotten sages. Awakened, a dusty breeze enhances, Fluttering leaves and stirring grass. Lives lived are in these turbulent dances, Men and women you may never know. Their dreams, loves and lost romances, Triumphs and tragedies of long ago. Transformed, into breath -- inhaled by lungs, Personal particles drawn from air. Unpaid debts and deeds left undone. Regret, anger, fear and despair, Battles lost, exhale the same as victories won, As do the prophet and the prayer. Perhaps the body is not my curse, Reality so fragile as to change with a gust. I sense my thinking was in reverse, If my soul's intuition is a force I trust. Then I know I am not lived to death, But dying to birth, the living dust.
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Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
Gust
The rain kept pouring in vain and no one seems to know the lain The sorrow of labor lines the root But the root appears in subjection For no one could carry the element Far flung on yonder, long ago! Come to me with sheer of love in the passion of dream told long a while To be true in the cradle of sorrow keeps the wing of imagination, obvious No regrets befall the stand of affection For the sun mixes the rain with bright colors The moon does not need to fight same road well traveled for purpose And when destined for the reality of time Beseemed by faithlessness renewed 'Abraka da bra' the farmer wails in sorrow Hope not disparaged as the time tells Let the beauty of nature not betrayed with passion the blender carries up the smoke Beneath the flame of mercy of yesteryears How true the giver grants to him of goodwill With appreciation though sometimes convincing For the sun shines in the midst of rain How long shall they kick the prophets cause he gat no voice to cry the woes Sublime the hours to come forth With a smile covered in gratitude Wake up no need for trial of tears For the sun shines as overshadow.
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
When the Sun Smiles
All time bird can be crow only ever Black in colour scavenging all day long Caring nothing about neatness or anything! Dogs eat the bones they throw clearing flesh Efficiently bringing by hovering everywhere! Full meals or bits of meats they share with all Going by the policy of united we stand ever! How healthy and active the crows are ever I see standing on the balcony of my building! Jack of all trade these guys do hard work long Keeping their noise heard all round the place! Loitering round us they pester us to give food Many a time when we come out to see the sky! Nothing we can do but offer some leftover foods Obviously irritated to avoid their bickerings! Popular among birds like mynah, sparrow, eagle Quixotically crows overshadow them by numbers! Regularly they start their chores like we do Surprisingly very early in the morning itself! Tickling nook and corner of all materials all day United they raid everywhere sans rest ever! Verily they are indeed hard toiling creatures Whether it is summer or winter in the whole year! Xerox copy of black crows reminds of uniform dress Year after year without change or colour fade ever; Zealous lot these creatures indeed we have to imbibe!
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Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 3:17 AM UTC
A Zealous Lot Crows Are!
i am a paradox i am a contradiction i am an oxymoron i am a hypocrite i am a walking talking "yes, no, maybe" black one day white the other lingering between the two because I have no morals and I speak of fake values never choosen a side never made a concrete decision my grand words oppose my petty actions and yet, still overshadow them i sugarcoat them with lame excuses for excuses my faults are the night sky the twinkling stars are but airplanes polluting the purity mistaken for a force of beautiful nature when it is indeed destructing the good destructing the holy with its very existence i leap from one pond to the other politically correct depending on the situation i am the northman claiming to belong to the south i am the liar i am the lie neither here nor there never here never there never anywhere
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 3:23 AM UTC
the queen of hypocrisy
Tick. Tock. One. Two. Three. Four. Lost in thought. Distracted and gone. Time passing by like a whirlwind. My mind is wandering again. The voices in my head overshadow my thoughts. I think too much. Sometimes my thoughts are too overwhelming. Why won't they stop? Why do all my thoughts lead back to this? I just want them to end. I want them all to end. I want to feel alive again. I want to breath without suffocating. Live without drowning. I lie awake at night. Crying. Thinking. Desperately wanting to find an escape. Someone please save me, before these thoughts **** me slowly.
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Tick Tock
Into the darkness of midnight lies the fall of many righteous skies devoid of love and self-assurance where demons thrive through perseverance to consume innocence with haunting fears which overshadow their victims in despair for the hope of light burning internal dims as concern rules the fraternal hidden under the guise of dignified uncertainty to follow the footprints left by predecessors tormented by the visions of conquest over land, possessions, and prominence able only to behold the frailties of souls buried deep within shallow but hollow goals conjuring sinister thoughts to become undead to greet fate with a hideously gruesome end as they ***** the life out of reason and wisdom feasting upon the remains like laughing hyenas until the rise of daybreak only to scurry away and eagerly await another knight to lose his way.
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Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 6:57 AM UTC
Into the Darkness
I still can't go there. To that little swatch of grass bathed in sunlight without even a dappling of shade It seems like a  green field of memories with almost no one left to remember Even the words  subscribed on the tiny brass plaques seem somehow belittling   With them set into the ground for the convenience of mowers to pass over It makes her seem so inconsequential that she shouldn't trouble the groundskeeper with her monument It makes me think of the mundane consequences of death that overshadow the greatness of life Like the simple economics of  maintenance I can't look at the life of such a beautiful women summed up in such a small way it seems  so common so trite I know that she would have told you that she was common but she wasn't She had a greatness in her soul and being that transcended the normal that transcends death I am overwhelmed by that little plaque and it's insignificance Enough to paralyze me from going there I know that if I see it it will push the other memories from my mind   and supplant her She will become a place in a cemetery with a little map on the grounds keeping shed gridded and numbered number 6 in row B a little part of the order in a small field and I can't have that
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
Thinking about the cemetery
Those silent wars unknown to most Are the important ones to win Concealed ongoing wars Can be easily brushed off with a grin When the room is filled with absence Nothing to overshadow your mind Your thoughts lead you to places Mindlessly, to where the fight resides The darkest hours, truly are Call the strongest foes out Attacking old scars just healed Bringing your defences down While the rest sleep in dreams Your demons like to hide Behind the facade of the dark Where past dreams have died They use darkness as deception To camoflauge what you perceive To portray as frightening as they want For as long as you believe You are breathless with fatigue Lying in a puddle of your tears For another fight was won that night Another battle against your fears
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Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 5:48 PM UTC
Silent Warrior Cries
Rejection Needs To Be Valid: When genuine people greet you with honesty, respect, and the state of being free of ridicule don't allow fear to overshadow individuals that are well grounded.
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 7:20 AM UTC
Positive Emotions
Looking through the window Into the graying sky She founds a overshadow Rushing through and fly The wind is blowing high Sound is piercing the mind Wings are wide in defy Dust is making her blind She wonders through the wilderness Amazed by the stubbornness The storm is against the flying wings Yet the bird is fighting things She was crying and sighing Alone she was denying For the things she will never have For the things she thought she had Into the storm she saw the bird Majestically the life is stirred She knew the truth out of a sudden The bird in the sky opened the Eden After the shadow there will be light Fight the wind like the Kite Open the arms and go ahead They will be the wings wide spread….
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Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 4:31 PM UTC
The Girl and the Kite...
pour her slowly onto the page each inch of her soft skin released in liquid onto the ambiguous background sharp and clear her features worn with the hours seems bleak to the touch seems to be a long distance to travel for a tear that never falls a bitter moment pour her essence onto the deep white page and she fills the void she is the void with alive colors with dead space between her words and i lean on her ear but the things i say evaporate and the things i feel become whispers of smoke that she puffs on with causal care tenderly caress my mind as i pour her out eclipse her with brush overshadow her with shutter speed and wait for her to capture me before i can flee i poured her onto the page every soft inch of her skin a liquid flowing careful and easy on the white portrait backdrop i capture conifer scent and her profile lanced by pine needles leisure in the wood her voice a narrow sharp instrument her wide hips swinging slow and **** packed in skintight jean and making my mind hazy with things i shouldn't feel bout a friend but she moves back and forth back and forth and the thoughts wont leave me alone she is a portrait i saw today and i loved her as she was seen and i knew her as she was meant to be forgiven and forgiving in an endless night
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Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 8:54 PM UTC
mechanical ducks