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"retaliated" poems
Panic filled in the streets of Sun Rose city.. I remember the traffic jams.. The people running for cover.. It was because we saw the red lightning. At first it was mixed in with just your normal thunder storm.. But then people started to see the red lightning on clear nights.. It was then we knew.. They had dispatched the weapon.. It was already to late for everyone in the city.. The red lightning already burned through our air.. We were breathing in red death.. The Combined Tri-axis Empire retaliated.. We fired back using a weapon that would poison their entire water supply.. None of them would ever have a drink of clean water again.. Our air was being replaced with the red death.. and their water with blue death.. The red death however begin to grow worse and worse.. The small clouds turned into fog killing even the soil itself.. Nothing stood up to it.. No materiel could survive in it.. Then the red hurricanes came.. They left red lifeless dirt in their aftermath.. All oceans burned... The end of our world.. We once called it Lij-Tm.. We were hoping to one day visit Lir-Te.. But that dream is over.. Lij-Tm ( Mars)
0
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
Red Lightning
standing in the middle of some vast, empty space—the kind of ocean or plain where you can see the edge of a dream in all directions and it opens to you, and you let it in—womblike—everything around you is meaningful, whether it’s beautiful or horrible or sublime it must be written above and left to fall as the wettest raindrop, tempting fate, and fate retaliated—again there was light, and again there was darkness, a new day
0
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 11:06 AM UTC
Dead Sea Scrolls
Maggie threw a weak left jab at the upper torso of Jacob to throw him off balance and swung hard with her right arm towards his exposed left cheek, connecting her small fists on his flesh with such impact that it immediately began to swell up. He retaliated with a well placed right hook to the side of Maggie's arm that sent her moving sideways before she regained her footing and answered back with a succession of jabs to his midsection. Sweat poured down both of their faces mixing with the blood from cuts and bruises that both had received in one of the earlier bouts. They were now in the sixth round and neither showed any determination in losing. Jacob brought his right leg up for a straight kick towards Maggie's stomach but she caught his leg and rotated it clockwise knocking him off balance and falling chest first to the mat. Maggie attempted to a heel lock but could not gain enough leverage to lock it in and Jacob slipped out of her grip and got back to his feet and shook it off. Maggie snarled thru her mouth guard and spun around with a roundhouse, catching her foot just short of hard enough on his left calf, sending numbness up and down his leg. She went in for a double leg takedown but was caught off guard when Jacob raised his right knee and connected it with the left temple on her head. Her vision began to go hazy and she swung wildly with a left and then a right before she was able to shake the cobwebs clear and see him throwing a straight, hard, and fast right squarely at her face. She ducked less than an inch before his fist would've met the bridge of her nose and she came up with her fists balled tightly in an uppercut and landed on the bottom of his jaw sending him reeling backwards and losing his balance he fell on the ground. Maggie rushed over and got on top of him in guard position and began raining down lefts and rights to his face which he was blocking. She threw a few shots at his side causing him to arch into a kidney shape and bring his arms away from his face. Maggie grabbed his left arm and went for a Fuji armbar and locked it in tightly, feeling the joint of his elbow bending sharply on her pelvic bone. She arched her back harder, tightened her thighs around his arm and twisted the upper portion of his wrist to the left until she felt the familiar feeling of a tap out on her legs. She released the grip and stood up, ****** bruised, sweaty, but not beaten.
0
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
Not Beaten
Maggie threw a weak left jab at the upper torso of Jacob to throw him off balance and swung hard with her right arm towards his exposed left cheek, connecting her small fists on his flesh with such impact that it immediately began to swell up. He retaliated with a well placed right hook to the side of Maggie's arm that sent her moving sideways before she regained her footing and answered back with a succession of jabs to his midsection. Sweat poured down both of their faces mixing with the blood from cuts and bruises that both had received in one of the earlier bouts. They were now in the sixth round and neither showed any determination in losing. Jacob brought his right leg up for a straight kick towards Maggie's stomach but she caught his leg and rotated it clockwise knocking him off balance and falling chest first to the mat. Maggie attempted to a heel lock but could not gain enough leverage to lock it in and Jacob slipped out of her grip and got back to his feet and shook it off. Maggie snarled thru her mouth guard and spun around with a roundhouse, catching her foot just short of hard enough on his left calf, sending numbness up and down his leg. She went in for a double leg takedown but was caught off guard when Jacob raised his right knee and connected it with the left temple on her head. Her vision began to go hazy and she swung wildly with a left and then a right before she was able to shake the cobwebs clear and see him throwing a straight, hard, and fast right squarely at her face. She ducked less than an inch before his fist would've met the bridge of her nose and she came up with her fists balled tightly in an uppercut and landed on the bottom of his jaw sending him reeling backwards and losing his balance he fell on the ground. Maggie rushed over and got on top of him in guard position and began raining down lefts and rights to his face which he was blocking. She threw a few shots at his side causing him to arch into a kidney shape and bring his arms away from his face. Maggie grabbed his left arm and went for a Fuji armbar and locked it in tightly, feeling the joint of his elbow bending sharply on her pelvic bone. She arched her back harder, tightened her thighs around his arm and twisted the upper portion of his wrist to the left until she felt the familiar feeling of a tap out on her legs. She released the grip and stood up, ****** bruised, sweaty, but not beaten.
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4
Maybe it was the fact that you only knew broken English And that you cried when all your tongue could only come up with blunt Norwegian Did you cry when all the other first graders thought you were stupid, grandfather? Was it that which drew you inwards to the growing child And the growing misunderstanding of communication. The barrier between elementary school tongues and accents is a large casme in your world. Was it the marines, the war, the things you saw that rationed you Into the secluded soul that you became? The distant, angry man, husband and father Who drove cars far away from home And than raged when you made it home on the weekend. Was it that which made my father different? Made him paint the walls of his room black and break windows at seventeen? The walls of that confining house had never heard yells that loud. The front door had never been slammed that hard. Friends' couches became more familiar family members. Was it that which made him the eclectic artist, unconfident man, funny husband, and tentative father? Who mentioned specific detailed taste without any context Who refuses to be challenged Socially inept, his daughter thought. Slight asburgers, she thought. Ungrateful! Selfish! Attitude stricken! He retaliated. How the **** was he supposed to react? He never mentioned how much he loved her, How much she changes his life. Was it that made her the way she is? She began becoming familiar with wine bottles and ***** that wasn't chased. She drank to forget sometimes She drank to not worry. She'd say **** more often And in the rooms of her best friends, She'd laugh at her circumstances. Than all she'd say was, **** THEM ALL* And sipped until the bottom of the bottle was her best friend.
0
May 29, 2011
May 29, 2011 at 1:52 PM UTC
Grandfather, father, daughter.
Maybe it was the fact that you only knew broken English And that you cried when all your tongue could only come up with blunt Norwegian Did you cry when all the other first graders thought you were stupid, grandfather? Was it that which drew you inwards to the growing child And the growing misunderstanding of communication. The barrier between elementary school tongues and accents is a large casme in your world. Was it the marines, the war, the things you saw that rationed you Into the secluded soul that you became? The distant, angry man, husband and father Who drove cars far away from home And than raged when you made it home on the weekend. Was it that which made my father different? Made him paint the walls of his room black and break windows at seventeen? The walls of that confining house had never heard yells that loud. The front door had never been slammed that hard. Friends' couches became more familiar family members. Was it that which made him the eclectic artist, unconfident man, funny husband, and tentative father? Who mentioned specific detailed taste without any context Who refuses to be challenged Socially inept, his daughter thought. Slight asburgers, she thought. Ungrateful! Selfish! Attitude stricken! He retaliated. How the **** was he supposed to react? He never mentioned how much he loved her, How much she changes his life. Was it that made her the way she is? She began becoming familiar with wine bottles and ***** that wasn't chased. She drank to forget sometimes She drank to not worry. She'd say **** more often And in the rooms of her best friends, She'd laugh at her circumstances. Than all she'd say was, **** THEM ALL* And sipped until the bottom of the bottle was her best friend.
Continue reading...
36
*The numerous attempts were futile. The stars warned the moon not to go out during the day. He retaliated... he probably shouldn't have. And then he saw her, the sun. Her beautiful radiance overcame him. So once in a while he snuck off to watch her...from a distance. But when he cooked up enough courage to face her...on that day, that midday, the curse was cast. The world was in darkness.*
0
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 1:01 AM UTC
Forbidden love: part 1 (syzygy_Solar eclipse _)
Received a post today, Requesting me to share, Promoting death, not harmony, My heart it just stood still and stared. It said for me to support, A gun law in the states, I retaliated with a question, Are not enough good men already in crates? I wrote a simple message, Reasoning with its point, Said that I preferred a paper and words As a guns mean, leaves the world In constant anarchy and disjoint I questioned the second amendment I based my view on peace For surly once a trigger is pulled Then all facets of war are released I hear the hollow screams of, Guns are for our protection. I hear those words loud and clear, But still I continue to question. For without the guns as threats Then people can be encouraged to talk. Articulate words can then be spoken From which bright futures can sought. © Robert Kingston 21.3.15
0
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
2nd Amendment
Reading the Odyssey, By Greek poet Homer. I finally realized, Not all heroes are heroic. And some aren't heroes at all, Often the monsters in the story, Aren't monstrous at all. Most times they're simple farmers or townspeople, Upon whom the hero welcomed themselves to. And when they retaliated, The author makes it look like the hero did nothing wrong. Heroes aren't humble, Not at all. They waste the lives of their crewmates, Trying to do the impossible. And, Odious, Really *****
0
Dec 16, 2024
Dec 16, 2024 at 1:32 PM UTC
The Odyssey
A bitter taste i have as the flavor of your lips is gone, alone and cold i feel as the warmth of your hug is nowhere to be found, but knowing of your great exertion i gain strength and i admire you! You are trying for a good cause and there is nothing else i'd like to see. You lead my path through the darkness and i'll make my effort to whatever ends. I can see now why our hearts beat in this eternal struggle, for each piece taken from the board another is placed upon it. Back and forth we go, across the world, across the ages. Some days my struggle feels like an impossible task but i can not be consumed with doubt. There are other poeple i love too and at some point they might need me more than ever. So i will make an effort and overcome the burden of my heart but don't worry i promise you. I promise you i'll be there for you as to any person i call family. I'll be there for your love can never be retaliated!
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 12:46 PM UTC
Odyssey
He set a motion that tied the night with a surge of peace through flight A walk at pardoned him for this fight the doorway sought now as his fortune with the moon! And a primal scream that retaliated fraught but down by fairgrounds his doggy run still furry friends rode in heat, and they couldn't be sheep in these latitudes that wool adorn when a caper was a precedent. If ghosts perched upon the cases where sprinkles attended from where they stay but they must defame those breeds with suggestive wiles they rehearsed. furthermore their embrace did employ what dignified lust was another cornflower day
0
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
A Beguiling Dog
We stood together as brothers in arms. Our side was small, both in stature and numbers. Fighting daily battles, we knew the war was lost. The tattered battlefield was a living room carpet. We received no weapons, but our enemy did. Armed with wooden spoons and open palms. We retaliated with tears and with silent obedience. The yelling in the house echoed like explosions. In that grey one-story house, my siblings and I. We stood together as brothers in arms.
0
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 8:38 PM UTC
80/10 "Brothers in Arms"
I hated this I didn't want to hurt you But you wouldn't stop      "Stop, please wait. I just want to talk." I called out to you You turned your head to look back at me      "Why should I?" I wanted to scream it to the stars      Because I love you. I just lowered my gaze      "We need to talk."      "I don't want you to hurt me." Your voice was barely above a whisper     Neither do I. I took a step closer But you retaliated in fear      "Stop now Lycan! I can't do this." You yelled It stung      "Careful, you're treading on ice" I lowered my voice to a growl      "You wouldn't do anything. I know you. You're predictable" Plunge the knife into my back an twist      "I'm anything but." I couldn't cage this anger. You laughed, in a sad sorrowful way, but it was colder than anything I've ever encountered.      "You're just waiting to be tamed, right?" Snap, snap I looked straight into your eyes, which were now bursting with the reflected gold of my own.       "Run." I whispered. Only seconds where left.     "Why?" You didn't understand.        "Run for your life, Rin." I was struggling now Fear dawned on you. You turned tail and ran.                                     "The ice just broke." I whispered to myself Before beginning the chase.
0
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
Wearing Thin
Walking out the door her husband says, I’ll be back in an hour. He said that last time After threatening her with violence, she retaliated With a garden hose, the only ****** weapon within reach. She turns over the memory of her wedding day looking for red flags, Remarks to herself how methodical it all was, Vetting her prospects— a bookish disposition and a stable desk job— And thinks to herself It’s a wonder anything came of it at all. There’s a list of Odds and Ends on the kitchen table. She closes her eyes to imagine Ticking boxes on that List of Odds and Ends with a number two pencil, Three children conducting a bank heist, On the table a corner reserved for beeswax, Raspberry jam, And a bucket of mud. She laughs to herself. Some sort of commotion has seized control of the air outside. Perhaps the children are arguing over Who holds open the sack, the door, waits outside Or perhaps they’re coming to collect The woman wrapped up In a garden hose, a necklace Of her own design. Loaded up on the stretcher, they carry her out, she says I’ll be back in an hour. The woman next door stands on her stoop, Clearly she could not have seen this coming. She forgets her own birthday.
0
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 5:18 AM UTC
CONTENT WARNING: Sunday Morning
Natalie. Battle Maiden Flying the Skyhawk was easy. Learning tactics wasn't. Aerial refuelling was hard, as was formation flying. Natalie grew up and lost her girliness. Inside she was a woman. Her view on the government remained. Should she bomb the junta in her plane? Thoughts of that were brushed aside when she was deployed near the Chilean border when tension increased in the long running border dispute. Flying three armed patrols convinced Chile to stop sabre rattling and withdraw her soldiers. Nat was gaining experience. Public opinion was turning against the government, an ongoing crisis that needed expert handling. War was the answer. Not with Chile but in the Malvinas. An army, armed to the teeth, sailed and was flown out. British resistance was subdued and Argentina took the Malvinas. Natalie and her squadron were on standby for action. Britain retaliated and UK ships headed south. Nat trained in anti ship attack. Soon her skills would be needed. People were behind the war. Not questioning about The Disappeared or how to get rid of the evil junta. The Malvinas were finally ours and a joyous mood overtook many people. In the military, it was different. A real fight would soon erupt. The Brits were coming and Nat was scared. What had she got herself into? Training continued and there was no time for her band, seeing her friends or little else. Not even secretly discussing how to help make the government fall with her fellow activists. It was a fine line of madness. An Argentine air force jet pilot with illegal views and rebellion songs. She could change the history of her country, Argentina, forever. If she dropped a few bombs on the leaders, it was over. The new war, The Disappeared, the fear. All of it. Could she do it? Would she? Nat knew where the leaders were and would strike on her next armed training mission. Fate stopped her. Events moved quickly and the young warrior woman never had chance.
0
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 7:08 PM UTC
Natalie. Battle Maiden
Natalie. Battle Maiden Flying the Skyhawk was easy. Learning tactics wasn't. Aerial refuelling was hard, as was formation flying. Natalie grew up and lost her girliness. Inside she was a woman. Her view on the government remained. Should she bomb the junta in her plane? Thoughts of that were brushed aside when she was deployed near the Chilean border when tension increased in the long running border dispute. Flying three armed patrols convinced Chile to stop sabre rattling and withdraw her soldiers. Nat was gaining experience. Public opinion was turning against the government, an ongoing crisis that needed expert handling. War was the answer. Not with Chile but in the Malvinas. An army, armed to the teeth, sailed and was flown out. British resistance was subdued and Argentina took the Malvinas. Natalie and her squadron were on standby for action. Britain retaliated and UK ships headed south. Nat trained in anti ship attack. Soon her skills would be needed. People were behind the war. Not questioning about The Disappeared or how to get rid of the evil junta. The Malvinas were finally ours and a joyous mood overtook many people. In the military, it was different. A real fight would soon erupt. The Brits were coming and Nat was scared. What had she got herself into? Training continued and there was no time for her band, seeing her friends or little else. Not even secretly discussing how to help make the government fall with her fellow activists. It was a fine line of madness. An Argentine air force jet pilot with illegal views and rebellion songs. She could change the history of her country, Argentina, forever. If she dropped a few bombs on the leaders, it was over. The new war, The Disappeared, the fear. All of it. Could she do it? Would she? Nat knew where the leaders were and would strike on her next armed training mission. Fate stopped her. Events moved quickly and the young warrior woman never had chance.
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7
" Forged by Mom's tender hands, In the fiery lair of the kitchen where I was once a squire. We swayed our aprons like a hero’s cape, Bravely marched through the crucible’s draconic breath. We unsheathed our wooden spatulas, Raised our mighty metallic forks, And lined our legion of spices, ready to make the dish. Like witches, We simmered the water with salt from the Baltic Sea, And oil procured from the labyrinth of shelves. As we waited for it to rattle with bubbles, Our sweat poured like the pasta we threw, While we smacked our iron pan into the horns of the oven. It screeched an ear-piercing clang, And we retaliated with our hearts beating a battle cry as we started for war. My general ordered me to lay a grease trap. Minutes passed; it sizzled, The pan fired back boiling oil, But we stood like walls—unyielding, fierce. Brave onions leapt into the fray, Sacrificing themselves, leaving us to grieve in tears As the battle raged on. The onion’s bittersweet, crispy breath inspired the garlic to follow, Crackling in courage as it joined the heat. Soon, bacon met the fire— Crisping, releasing the smoky guardian from the labyrinth’s depth, While mushrooms from the Elven forest charged in the clash. The holy grail of Filipino-style Carbonara sauce rained on the battlefield, Uniting the fallen, boiling *** and all, Turning the *** into a smooth, white, creamy ocean with a steaming, smoky, crisp aroma. We scooped our pasta water and drained the rest, Baptized the *** with silky, snake-like pasta, Adorned it with grainy black pepper, And sprinkled it with golden cheese, A finishing touch for our dish. We cheered in victory as we prepared the feast, Our kingdom rejoiced in tears at each slurp and each lick of our savoury dish. As laughter echoed and stories flowed, Mom crowned me the Carbonara knight, A token of triumph for a job well done. " -Klausyuer: The ****** Poet
0
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 4:05 PM UTC
Kitchen Odyssey: Carbonara
" Forged by Mom's tender hands, In the fiery lair of the kitchen where I was once a squire. We swayed our aprons like a hero’s cape, Bravely marched through the crucible’s draconic breath. We unsheathed our wooden spatulas, Raised our mighty metallic forks, And lined our legion of spices, ready to make the dish. Like witches, We simmered the water with salt from the Baltic Sea, And oil procured from the labyrinth of shelves. As we waited for it to rattle with bubbles, Our sweat poured like the pasta we threw, While we smacked our iron pan into the horns of the oven. It screeched an ear-piercing clang, And we retaliated with our hearts beating a battle cry as we started for war. My general ordered me to lay a grease trap. Minutes passed; it sizzled, The pan fired back boiling oil, But we stood like walls—unyielding, fierce. Brave onions leapt into the fray, Sacrificing themselves, leaving us to grieve in tears As the battle raged on. The onion’s bittersweet, crispy breath inspired the garlic to follow, Crackling in courage as it joined the heat. Soon, bacon met the fire— Crisping, releasing the smoky guardian from the labyrinth’s depth, While mushrooms from the Elven forest charged in the clash. The holy grail of Filipino-style Carbonara sauce rained on the battlefield, Uniting the fallen, boiling *** and all, Turning the *** into a smooth, white, creamy ocean with a steaming, smoky, crisp aroma. We scooped our pasta water and drained the rest, Baptized the *** with silky, snake-like pasta, Adorned it with grainy black pepper, And sprinkled it with golden cheese, A finishing touch for our dish. We cheered in victory as we prepared the feast, Our kingdom rejoiced in tears at each slurp and each lick of our savoury dish. As laughter echoed and stories flowed, Mom crowned me the Carbonara knight, A token of triumph for a job well done. " -Klausyuer: The ****** Poet
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43
One thing I realized Life is a complicated foe It changes so fast Not always you reap what you sow It's there and the next moment it's not It's impervious and transient Just like sand in a kids hand Slips down become insignificant Some times even time is Incapable of healing wounds of past Even the ***** of memory Hurts , give pain that long last Just a single accident is enough To vapour all faiths and perceptions erases belief,leave us numb Further degrades the degradation People leave us alone To fight with the fears alone to rise alone to fall No one to wipe off tears Left ... just like that no question asked none answered Without any classification Not even once remembered This silence kills And the sound stings Scared to close eyes even to blink This emptiness retaliated This feeling is ajaring Wrong are the common sayings Not every end                      A happy ending..
0
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC
Left
She gasps for air, strains to break the surface- unaware of what awaits her on the other side. Reality. Emerging from the cracked cacoon, her wings pinned. She struggles to catch her breath- attempts to recollect. "What is this?" her voice quivers. "A new awakening," she is retaliated. "And who are you?" she hesitates. "Dare you ask, my friend?" "They call me Life."
0
Nov 20, 2010
Nov 20, 2010 at 12:43 PM UTC
Untitled
really ******* hard to make you laugh and smile and make you want to see me again. I feel like though that smile of yours was fake and that laugh that made my body shiver and my insides nice was a lie to send daggers down my spine and you don't care because some ***** who didn't deserve you hurt you. So you can't take a chance and see that I would be there for you and now I'm the hurt one and you don't care. You made me feel like a human being a man with painted nails weird clothing and loud quirky personality. Felt like home that you smiled and held my arm and made me feel human not like the freakshow was open for business. I felt normal just for a moment. Now you make me feel like I was bit by a snake that entangled my heart and squeezed it just enough to hurt when you let go. At first I felt like you would be someone that I could at least **** and it'd be fun but as we talked and I learned more and more about you. I realized I wanted to date and be boyfriends because you are so amazing and different and hurt. You look like you needed someone in your life that was willing to hold your hand and kiss your cheek. You met someone willing to do that but retaliated by biting his neck and draining all his blood.
0
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
I tried
I'm really mean to my cat sometimes and I don't know why today as I lay in bed sweaty with a headache after work all I wanted was kitty cuddles I spooned her fluffy-ness and had a flashback to when she was a kitten and you spooned me and I spooned her I awoke in the night terrified thinking I rolled over her only to find her on one side and you on the other I had my family I was so content with my two loves you were angry at me for getting a cat because you were allergic but again like always you failed to inform me of how you felt and later retaliated against me when I couldn't read your mind always claiming "I knew" I'm really mean to my cat sometimes and I know why when we can't find someone or something to blame we will pick anything to make us feel better even if subconsciously we have no idea we're doing it you were allergic to her and it strained our relationship I blamed a cat I love with all my heart because I could never understand how you could have flipped into a totally different person it's not her fault it's not my fault it's not the other man's fault it's not even your fault losing love hurts especially when it just happens we may love until we feel our bodies writher from pain from crying we may love until we are dead but I will not take the blame anymore and I wont put it on my cat either don't blame the rain on the weatherman
0
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
you thought you were losing me to a cat but in reality we lost each other while we were lost in our own dark minds
not easy being me hard to search memory chest each story tells me of neglect disrespectful was I in conduct Hurtful was I in conduct Retaliated with fury As I only thought of forging ahead Through the days of old Have I arrived here to lament All that have been done by me All that have been said by me All that have been neglected by me In this lament, I take a vow A promise to never move forward Without having asked pardon From Almighty who placed Each event on my path For gaining patience and wisdom I bow to all that IS I bow to all Who ARE I bow to the expanse I bow to you and to me May my journey be of awareness May I Arrive safely back at home Having made up to you and to me
0
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC
hard to be me