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"pranced" poems
Last night, while I lay thinking here, some Whatifs crawled inside my ear and pranced and partied all night long and sang their same old Whatif song: Whatif I'm dumb in school? Whatif they've closed the swimming pool? Whatif I get beat up? Whatif there's poison in my cup? Whatif I start to cry? Whatif I get sick and die? Whatif I flunk that test? Whatif green hair grows on my chest? Whatif nobody likes me? Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me? Whatif I don't grow talle? Whatif my head starts getting smaller? Whatif the fish won't bite? Whatif the wind tears up my kite? Whatif they start a war? Whatif my parents get divorced? Whatif the bus is late? Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight? Whatif I tear my pants? Whatif I never learn to dance? Everything seems well, and then the nighttime Whatifs strike again!
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12.1k
Whatif
I've named him Peter or Paul I can't pick Purposefully picking pigeon names is preposterous It's perfectly possible though He's my pal Peter or Paul We met at the Pantheon He prattled, pranced Up toward my position I wanted to pet my pigeon Peter or Paul Put him in my pristine apartment Perhaps Patrick?
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Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
Pigeon Poem/Ode To A Pigeon
In the absence of everything, I felt a sheer yet painful bliss. I longed for stimulation. A soft breeze from a drafty window, the whizzing of a broken furnace, the shriek of the floor as it was pranced upon. But all of these things would not be enough. I am lonely because the hour is lonely. But maybe we're not so lonely, because we're both here together. The hour and I are not alone because we both are lonely.
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 3:29 AM UTC
The absence
Nina pranced about the lush green grove. The pitter patter of her footsteps like raindrops on the ground, and her movements, like a fog rolled through a valley.   A white satin leotard decorated with flowery lace patterns A tutu that blossomed from her slender waist.   Hair elegantly tied back into a bun. Face, filled with symmetry, lightly made up with powder. Her cheeks flushed with a pinkish red blush, but natural like her lips of pomegranate red.   The grove, short deep green ryegrass that rolls over the lumpy ground like moss. Trees shade like many arms shielding many eyes. The pure white light of the sun shone through the canopy in beams. Nina danced furiously intent and music box intricately in and out of the beacons of light as a ballerina should following a lifetime of training.
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Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 12:44 PM UTC
The White Swan
Her eyes were glued to a sky full of stars, But she was dreaming of something bigger than Mars Somehow the constellations would just realign, Opening up a portal to all space and time Distant galaxies sang, danced and laughed all night, Persuading her to stay and relax ‘til light The dawn would come much to her dismay, But then the sun rose, showing her a new way The light glistened with every step taken, And her whole being somehow felt more awaken Mountains climbed high and streams ran fast, Making her wish this moment would last Colors frolicked and pranced across the distant sky, Giving her beauty of which to testify But soon dusk would come, and she welcomed it grinning, For she knew these dazzling sights were just the beginning.
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Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
The Beginning
Socks that hide secrets Socks that hide shame Socks that contain the shadows of pain They once pranced in the dryer They now slump in the drawer They send little sock homing signals galore Fermenting the anguish Makes the smell much more tolerable It was all part of the ineffable plan
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 6:35 PM UTC
Ode to a lost sock
And so, I awoke Where no sorrows are awakened. Distant galaxies sang, pranced, and danced in the glee of the night Eon long, lost constellations realigned and with joyous relief Whispered beneath the chill of the autumn air, “Oh, sweet child o’ mine, He has moved your soul to happiness. He has given life a new understanding, Love a new meaning.” Undoubtedly, that was true; For thine words are so sweet, So kind, And so pure. And though the future is uncertain, To awaken to your bliss… I cannot imagine more heavenly than that And in those moments of realization My heart, I promised to you.
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
Silver lining
when i was little, i used to read those books, you know, by shel silverstein? where the sidewalk ends, and a light in the attic? there was a poem in one, and it went like this: "Last night, while I lay thinking here, some Whatifs crawled inside my ear and pranced and partied all night long and sang their same old Whatif song: Whatif I'm dumb in school? Whatif they've closed the swimming pool? Whatif I get beat up? Whatif there's poison in my cup? Whatif I start to cry? Whatif I get sick and die? Whatif I flunk that test? Whatif green hair grows on my chest? Whatif nobody likes me? Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me? Whatif I don't grow taller? Whatif my head starts getting smaller? Whatif the fish won't bite? Whatif the wind tears up my kite? Whatif they start a war? Whatif my parents get divorced? Whatif the bus is late? Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight? Whatif I tear my pants? Whatif I never learn to dance? Everything seems well, and then the nighttime Whatifs strike again!" and that poem sticks in my head, a lot. because, really, "whatif's" control my every thought. my "whatif's" keep me, all in check, when they breathe their "whatif's", on my neck. they keep me waiting, watching, and wary, "whatif" life, wasn't so scary? "whatif" i could live, and not be so afraid, "whatif" i was sure, of the choices i've made? i guess i'll find out soon, but "whatif" i don't. to be honest i'm scared, that maybe i won't.
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Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 10:06 PM UTC
what if..
Loud and boisterous their green, blue, brown feathers fluttered with enthusiasm they pranced like enraged dancers around a still pasture of evergreen The sky dissolved into a milky white feathered with thin grey clouds when I saw him pitch black and inky he wasn't natural this peacock's feathers looked like they had been dipped in oil He was larger than the others with a stoic expression and confident stance he was quiet among the other birds He was alluring, almost mysterious I wanted to embrace this bird but I knew I wasn't worthy at least I thought I wasn't And he was gone Just like that like a ghost I knew I would never see again but I still dream of meeting him
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
The Black Peafowl
Luke was such a dreadful fidget He couldn't sit still for a minute He'd toss and turn all lesson long Like a caterpillar crawling on a cattle prong He'd flick his rulers, click his pens Cluck and fuss like a headless hen. His tutor, a tall and sombre man Was struggling with his teaching plan He'd taken three days to prepare But Luke was more than he could bare. "Right! That's it! I've had enough! If you don't stop I'll call your mum. Unless you're really in fact quite ill I'd advise you to stop it. Oh do keep still! I'm just about to lose my mind, oh Luke You're being quite unkind!" But Luke was on a sugar high "I can't stop!" He said, "I don't know why!" And with that he jumped up, began to dance He leaped and swung and swooped and pranced Till all the neighbours gathered round To gaze and gawk at this unsightly sound...
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Mar 4, 2011
Mar 4, 2011 at 1:13 AM UTC
Luke the Fidget (Part One)
I've always been cold until I visited the Far East and you pranced into my life like a wild gazelle in the grasslands. I've always been cold until you laid your head on my chest while you fell asleep and the aroma of your cocoa brown hair intoxicated me to the point of snores and the most pleasant dreams I've ever had. I've always been cold until you wrapped your arm around my stomach and I could feel your veins circulating on the contours of my abdomen. I've always been cold until you looked at me with your macchiato eyes and my state of matter went from solid to liquid as I tried to construct myself back together like an artist sculpting an ice statue outside in the middle of May in Mexico. I've always been cold until your kiss electrified my lips like an underwater eel and I felt 12,000 watts circulate my body bringing to attention every cell that flows within my valves. I've always been cold like an iceberg near the Antarctic and nothing's ever changed that. Nothing except for you. Thank you for being my fireplace in the middle of an ice cold winter. Thank you for being my heat.
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
Heat
Twas the last day of school before a long winter break Not a student was learning, they were all munching on cake The children had tidied, supplies all snug in their places With candy cane smiles lighting up their sweet faces The artwork was stowed in their backpacks with care In the hope that they'd bring holiday cheer home to share When outside the portable there arose such a clatter Ms. G sprang from the party to see what was the matter The class followed her out, filling up the whole porch And right out in front of them, near as a bright as a torch Rudolph, nose blazing red through the dark Vancouver rain, Behind him the reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh like a train Santa jumped out spritely, red hat bouncing with glee He waved at the group and boomed out, "Hello there Ms. G," “And Division 14, all of you good girls and boys. We’re rehearsing our run to practice delivering toys” The reindeer pranced all round, putting on a fine show Santa offered his hand and said, “Come on Ms. G, let’s go,” “We’ll drop you in Mexico before we head back,” Ms. G happily agreed, asking “do you have time for a snack?” The class joyfully welcomed the jolly crew to the party They delighted in the games and the food, eating hearty Too soon it was time for the guests of honour to go Santa sprang to his sleigh and exclaimed, ** ** ** "Now, Rudoph and Dasher! Dancer, Prancer and ***** Now, Comet! on, Cupid! On, Donner on Blitzen! “To the top of the portable then over the school To Mexico we go, to Ms. G’s holiday by the pool.” And off the sleigh flew with Ms. G safely strapped in, Her pink toque a-bobbing, her face all a-grin They heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight— "Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!"
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Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 2:37 PM UTC
Twas the last day of school
Twas the last day of school before a long winter break Not a student was learning, they were all munching on cake The children had tidied, supplies all snug in their places With candy cane smiles lighting up their sweet faces The artwork was stowed in their backpacks with care In the hope that they'd bring holiday cheer home to share When outside the portable there arose such a clatter Ms. G sprang from the party to see what was the matter The class followed her out, filling up the whole porch And right out in front of them, near as a bright as a torch Rudolph, nose blazing red through the dark Vancouver rain, Behind him the reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh like a train Santa jumped out spritely, red hat bouncing with glee He waved at the group and boomed out, "Hello there Ms. G," “And Division 14, all of you good girls and boys. We’re rehearsing our run to practice delivering toys” The reindeer pranced all round, putting on a fine show Santa offered his hand and said, “Come on Ms. G, let’s go,” “We’ll drop you in Mexico before we head back,” Ms. G happily agreed, asking “do you have time for a snack?” The class joyfully welcomed the jolly crew to the party They delighted in the games and the food, eating hearty Too soon it was time for the guests of honour to go Santa sprang to his sleigh and exclaimed, ** ** ** "Now, Rudoph and Dasher! Dancer, Prancer and ***** Now, Comet! on, Cupid! On, Donner on Blitzen! “To the top of the portable then over the school To Mexico we go, to Ms. G’s holiday by the pool.” And off the sleigh flew with Ms. G safely strapped in, Her pink toque a-bobbing, her face all a-grin They heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight— "Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!"
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If sleep is the cousin of death then all of your dreams must reside on your breath But death is as constant as the rain So Like a lions mane wear your dead dreams sewn together proudly like a grass skirt in a luau in Maui I see, and i know that no one is perfect but was jeopardizing our entire way of life worth it? I know i just discussed dreams earlier on in this piece but please allow me to indulge and talk about this elephant in the room. Why is it that you thought that a man who is of African descent and a woman would lead us to our doom? See, like Kennedy a lot of us had dreams of going to the moon and making a difference in the world more impactful than taking off the rest of the day at high noon, Soon he'll be in office and i can't change that but let's face facts We stood by and allowed your ignorance an audience we built your hate filled echo chamber that is certain parts of the information superhighway internet O-bummer? Classless? Slime? January 20th the end of an error? We all saw the comments on all the news pages and while those despicable words enraged us we know free speech is a part of what made this country We have to take the good with the bad but, i do have one request. Don't expect me to give him a chance as he panned and pranced all over the people who built this country off of our ancestors backs... Don't expect me to not take him to task lyrically because maybe it'll be all that i have. He. Is not. A president. So like i said, sleep is the cousin of death. But wake up friends...wake up for the mistakes we have to correct...
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Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 8:08 PM UTC
Sleep is the cousin of death
If sleep is the cousin of death then all of your dreams must reside on your breath But death is as constant as the rain So Like a lions mane wear your dead dreams sewn together proudly like a grass skirt in a luau in Maui I see, and i know that no one is perfect but was jeopardizing our entire way of life worth it? I know i just discussed dreams earlier on in this piece but please allow me to indulge and talk about this elephant in the room. Why is it that you thought that a man who is of African descent and a woman would lead us to our doom? See, like Kennedy a lot of us had dreams of going to the moon and making a difference in the world more impactful than taking off the rest of the day at high noon, Soon he'll be in office and i can't change that but let's face facts We stood by and allowed your ignorance an audience we built your hate filled echo chamber that is certain parts of the information superhighway internet O-bummer? Classless? Slime? January 20th the end of an error? We all saw the comments on all the news pages and while those despicable words enraged us we know free speech is a part of what made this country We have to take the good with the bad but, i do have one request. Don't expect me to give him a chance as he panned and pranced all over the people who built this country off of our ancestors backs... Don't expect me to not take him to task lyrically because maybe it'll be all that i have. He. Is not. A president. So like i said, sleep is the cousin of death. But wake up friends...wake up for the mistakes we have to correct...
Continue reading...
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There was a snail (named Dale) with a very long tail who ventured off into the world. He said to himself (Dale the snail) I'd love to meet a bootiful goil. So in a flash from space, with mucus running down her face, came an alien creature called Joan, She saw a silver line (it was a snail trail) and followed it to see where it goes. And far in ...the distance she saw in an instance at the end of the snail trail sparkling in the sun- A slimy and sweet creature she'd love to meet with a shell on his back for a home. She said:"I do declare, you look dashing and fair" as bubbles oozed from her eyes. Dale just blushed, as his face lit up, and said: "aw you're just saying that you sassy young blob of an alien gawjus sweet thing with no hair :)" She looked at this tiny dream of a slobber, he was in awe at her globber. But their hearts sank at their difference in size. She was glandular large like a bright yellow barge and he was as small as a splarge. A stick insect saw - the tragedy of it all and came up with a very cunning plan. He knew a wizard once who ate snails for lunch, they could trick him to changing her small... As he told them the tale, their faces went pale but their love was too strong for the fear. So they slithered and shlozzered to Joan's flying saucer to find the castle of Wizzy the **** The wizard was waiting with his eyes full of hating and a knife and a fork in each hand. There was garlic and salt that he took from his vault and he drooled on his beard as he sang: "Alien Shpeegle with shnails in shmeegle, a delightful shurprishe for a man! Groggy my groach with shome shlime on my toasht" and he pranced and danced with his band. The spacecraft landed, unexpectant of ambush, the couple wanderd on in. Wizzy swung from a rafter and trapped Dale in a corner, and said: "My you'll go well with my Shtew!" Joan got mad and rolled on to her lad and ****** the wizard into her goo. She suddenly felt all tingly as she turned into a twinky, there was nothing more she could do. The Wizard escaped and poor Dale met his fate, and was smeared on the twinky sliced in two. Wizzy gobbled them up with some glee in his cup, and then succumbed to food poisoning goo. So it seemed that it ended on that dark cold September, for the lovers who's loving was doomed... But on a planet far away at the early break of day two souls bubbled in primordial stew. An amoeba named Dale and an amoeba named Joan were floating in bubbles of gas, So deep the attraction -the magnetized action, they could now be together at last.
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Dec 11, 2010
Dec 11, 2010 at 1:38 AM UTC
Dale and Joan
There was a snail (named Dale) with a very long tail who ventured off into the world. He said to himself (Dale the snail) I'd love to meet a bootiful goil. So in a flash from space, with mucus running down her face, came an alien creature called Joan, She saw a silver line (it was a snail trail) and followed it to see where it goes. And far in ...the distance she saw in an instance at the end of the snail trail sparkling in the sun- A slimy and sweet creature she'd love to meet with a shell on his back for a home. She said:"I do declare, you look dashing and fair" as bubbles oozed from her eyes. Dale just blushed, as his face lit up, and said: "aw you're just saying that you sassy young blob of an alien gawjus sweet thing with no hair :)" She looked at this tiny dream of a slobber, he was in awe at her globber. But their hearts sank at their difference in size. She was glandular large like a bright yellow barge and he was as small as a splarge. A stick insect saw - the tragedy of it all and came up with a very cunning plan. He knew a wizard once who ate snails for lunch, they could trick him to changing her small... As he told them the tale, their faces went pale but their love was too strong for the fear. So they slithered and shlozzered to Joan's flying saucer to find the castle of Wizzy the **** The wizard was waiting with his eyes full of hating and a knife and a fork in each hand. There was garlic and salt that he took from his vault and he drooled on his beard as he sang: "Alien Shpeegle with shnails in shmeegle, a delightful shurprishe for a man! Groggy my groach with shome shlime on my toasht" and he pranced and danced with his band. The spacecraft landed, unexpectant of ambush, the couple wanderd on in. Wizzy swung from a rafter and trapped Dale in a corner, and said: "My you'll go well with my Shtew!" Joan got mad and rolled on to her lad and ****** the wizard into her goo. She suddenly felt all tingly as she turned into a twinky, there was nothing more she could do. The Wizard escaped and poor Dale met his fate, and was smeared on the twinky sliced in two. Wizzy gobbled them up with some glee in his cup, and then succumbed to food poisoning goo. So it seemed that it ended on that dark cold September, for the lovers who's loving was doomed... But on a planet far away at the early break of day two souls bubbled in primordial stew. An amoeba named Dale and an amoeba named Joan were floating in bubbles of gas, So deep the attraction -the magnetized action, they could now be together at last.
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Dreamt of a devilish woman dressed in scarlet, and dancing to her heart’s content She twirled about, her dress all a-twist, coming to face me, as if terrified. No eyes, no lips, no nose-- her hair was dark chocolate, yet lacked the normal luster Dainty feet pranced toward me ****** dress gently gracing about her frame, Featureless face attempting to smile… For a moment I was frozen; To run, to hide, to make her mine. She chose, rudely, without asking me. Arms came ‘round my neck, —Ice on death Without a thought I ****** her away; disgusted. Her mask split open a thousand ugly, jagged teeth; graveyards and dirt came to my nose No more elegance in her steps, She sprung at me—
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Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 2:58 PM UTC
Rosemary
Someone's knocking at my door In the middle of the night From a warm be into the cold I think I got my first frostbite As I opened up my door I saw a ghostly figure on my porch A lady all dressed in white With an unlit torch as her light Her jet black hair was flying wide She looked so feeble, oh so mild Her dress was dancing everywhere And on her face showed fright She had such a perfect face And she came from a mixed race She said,"Please help me, I'm being followed by a plight." I led her into my home She ran away from my statue gnomes And when I held her hand It was so cold and tight Her lips were bleeding, so was her head On her dress was drops of red I let her sleep on my bed And slept on the couch that night We danced and we pranced In my dreams I was awoken By the sunbeams I ran to her For I heard screams And at her foot I saw blood and shaving cream She said that is wasn't what it seamed It's cherry syrup and whip cream I thought that she cut herself while taking a shave I felt so ashamed and naive
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Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 7:56 PM UTC
Mysterious Woman
The dog firmly placed his chin upon the old man's knee, stirring him from sleep in his chair. The only light in the room coming from the television screen. The dog's gentle message being, "Time we go to bed" dear friend. A ritual event occurring more often now and most likely tomorrow night again. As the man slowly stood the dog pranced towards the door, to go outside and do his required business. The man also to the bathroom did retire, brushing of teeth and to attend to his own urgent business. Six years of twenty four seven companionship had bonded them forever, each knowing the other as only best friends or family can, both fully habituated to the other's needs and routines. The dog sat upon his own bed, close by to the man's bed,  patiently waiting as he always did. The man leaned down and took the dog's face and head into his hands, forehead to forehead they paused while silent endearing messages were, like every night, conveyed and mutually affectionately received. Love as real as any. The man climbed aboard his own bed, donning his CPAP mask like a pilot before take off and arranged himself in his fully-automatic-adjustable bed, then clapped his hands twice to extinguish the lamp on the bedside table. "Good night buddy, we'll have some more fun in the morning." the man murmured, closing his eyes to sleep. Another day ended as most now do, as will, all their remaining shared tomorrow's.
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Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 3:28 PM UTC
The Remaining Tomorrow's
She once thought she was strong, She once believed she could take it all. She sat, picking flowers, giving them to her Mama, as a sign of happiness and love. She pranced through the halls, in her long flow-y gown, being told she could be whatever she wanted. She became the little tom boy, with her hat on backwards. She ran 'round with her brother and friends, and used him as her role model. As she grew older, she realized... She was more like her brother than she expected. But she's not alone. He was alone. He envies what she has, What he lacked. She realizes the mistakes, The terrible things she should've stopped, and the things she never started.   He had no one, She has two. He told nobody, She told few. He was secretive, but she knew. She once thought she was strong, She once believed she could take it all... she once thought she could give up. She reminds herself, He didn't. He had no one, but he stayed strong. He survived. She tells herself, So can you.
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Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 8:13 PM UTC
[S]he Stayed Strong
Sadie was a doubtful one Her mind was tightly shut When faced with the fantastical She’d fold her arms and tut She pranced around her garden With an playful evil aura And dealt a merry flattening To all that passed before her Their bodies lay around her And an imp of mischief found her She loved to trap and poison And wished she’d been a spider When a fizzing overtook her When a rumble grew inside her When a shrinking and a shrivelling Across her form did tickle And soon did Sadie realise That wishes can be fickle Her legs and arms divided Her eyeballs multiply did So sorry Sadie scuttled Alternating creep and crawl She tippy-toe’d across the grass And past her victims all And sadness was upon her And with mourning in her eyes Her grief compounded hunger And an appetite for flies Her lengthy limbs belied her Sorry Sadie was a spider She loped along a lily And her sorrow turned to guilt Her carapace was aching For the blood which she had spilt She wept a web of anguish With her sticky little tears She wound a downward spiral Like the falling of the years Her malice had been stunted Her fangs were dull and blunted Sadie gained existence On a web of worldly woes She fed her tiny tummy Where the buzz and flutter goes And she learned the price of living So she killed just what she ate And she knew why killing needlessly Was such an ugly trait And with a human soul inside her She chose to be a spider
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Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Silly Sadistic Sadie
If I want my gypsy life, My solitary dream It does require a sacrifice, More than I can exprime. Car dans ma vie bohémienne, Je dois me tenir seule Même si mes sentiments m’amènent À vouloir être en deux. Je sais que dans ce jeu de rime Je râte ; quand-même, j’essais Car sûr mon cœur tes yeux s’impriment : La lumière that day. The candlelight that twirled and danced And lit up eyes and hair As deep inside something woke, pranced And breathed a fresh, new air. This was something I'd never had: Un sentiment profond Regretfully I leave, though sad; Mais l'route gitane, c'est longue !
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Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC
Sacrifice