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"romeos" poems
Streets of the city has recently bathed, with a sudden hour long mid-Summer's rain. Romeo trudged down the empty street, towards his lonely pad located on a terrace. He had nothing to call his very own, excepting his dear old Saxophone! The crowd in the hotel applauded as he played, since he played with empathy like every other day. He had met his Juliet briefly once, those were the moments of a happy trance! The saxophone has countless musical notes embedded inside, - For our Romeo to play them out night after night. Yet so many Romeos like him shall slowly fade away; And the saxophone shall play their dirge at the end of the day!                                                            -By Raj Nandy, New Delhi
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Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 11:23 AM UTC
ROMEO AND HIS SAXOPHONE!
When I lost my marbles, My dad would always say: "Don't worry, you'll find them When you just stop searching." And it sounded stupid, But every time I stopped, Yeah, I found my marbles. I grew up; my dad died, Seasons changed, so did I, But the rule stayed as true. One day, I'd given up On that romantic stuff, And, Resigned to die alone, I walked into a big Ol' Shakespeare conference, To watch Othello die. Well there, they were taking "Volunteers" for Juliet, "Lucky men" Romeos, And I was one of them.
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
Finding Marbles
romeo is bleeding but not so as you'd notice he's over on 18hh street as usual lookin' so hard against the hood of his car and puttin' out a cigarette in his hand and for all the pachucos at the pumps at romeros paint and body they all seein' how far they can spit well it was just another night but how they're huddled in the brake lights of a 58 belair and listenin' to how romeo killed a sherrif his knife and they all jump when they hear the sirens but romeo just laughs and says all the racket in the world ain't never gonna save that coppers *** he'll never see another summertime for gunnin' down my brother and leavin' him like a dog beneath a car without his knife and romeo says hey man gimme a cigarette and they all reach for their pack and frankie lights it for him and pats him on the back and throws bottle at a milk truck and as it breaks he grabs his nuts and they all know they could be just like romeo if they only had the guts but romeo is bleeding but nobody can tell and he sings along with the radio with a bullet in his chest and he combs back his fenders and they all agree its clear that every thing is cool now that romeos here but romeo is bleeding and he winces now and then and he leans against the car doors and feels the blood in his shoes and someones crying in the phone booth at the 5 points by the store romeo starts his engine and wipes the blood off the door and he brodys through the signal with the radio full blast leavin' the boys there hikin' up there chinos and they all try to stand like romeo beneath the moon cut like a sickle and they're talkin' now in spanish about there hero but romeo is bleeding as he gives the man his ticket and he climbs to the balcony at the movies and he'll die without a wimper like every heros dream just like an angel with a bullet and cagney on the screen
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Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
Romeo is Bleeding by Tom Waits
romeo is bleeding but not so as you'd notice he's over on 18hh street as usual lookin' so hard against the hood of his car and puttin' out a cigarette in his hand and for all the pachucos at the pumps at romeros paint and body they all seein' how far they can spit well it was just another night but how they're huddled in the brake lights of a 58 belair and listenin' to how romeo killed a sherrif his knife and they all jump when they hear the sirens but romeo just laughs and says all the racket in the world ain't never gonna save that coppers *** he'll never see another summertime for gunnin' down my brother and leavin' him like a dog beneath a car without his knife and romeo says hey man gimme a cigarette and they all reach for their pack and frankie lights it for him and pats him on the back and throws bottle at a milk truck and as it breaks he grabs his nuts and they all know they could be just like romeo if they only had the guts but romeo is bleeding but nobody can tell and he sings along with the radio with a bullet in his chest and he combs back his fenders and they all agree its clear that every thing is cool now that romeos here but romeo is bleeding and he winces now and then and he leans against the car doors and feels the blood in his shoes and someones crying in the phone booth at the 5 points by the store romeo starts his engine and wipes the blood off the door and he brodys through the signal with the radio full blast leavin' the boys there hikin' up there chinos and they all try to stand like romeo beneath the moon cut like a sickle and they're talkin' now in spanish about there hero but romeo is bleeding as he gives the man his ticket and he climbs to the balcony at the movies and he'll die without a wimper like every heros dream just like an angel with a bullet and cagney on the screen
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I hate how they never warn little girls to beware the pretty boys with eyes like gleaming jewels. The boys with soft smiles and music in their laugh. They never warn of boys with pretty faces and blackened hearts. The boys that leave little girls crying in the dark. The ones with words like honey, sickly sweet. The princes with big money, who we dream of sweeping us off our feet. They never speak of boys with danger in their eyes. But beauty true blue. Little girls are never told of boys of silver and boys of gold. The little kings, with angel wings. The little beast neither soft nor sweet. The beauty bombshells, the golden adonis’s. They never speak of boys who run like the winds under their feet. The boys who shine like the stars in the sky. The boys with the world in their grubby mitts. The boys with lips like cotton candy, and sins warm and rich. The ones who have our stomachs doing flips. The ones who seem to have it all shoulders back, standing tall. They never caution of little boys with clever minds and nimble fingers. Of boys with Shakespeare's sonnets in their hair and love songs in their whispers. But little girl, I am telling you now. Beware the pigtail pullers, fear the little Romeos. Heed the heartbreakers Shun smooth talkers. Little girl, don’t give in. Little girl, fear their sins. Little girl, run away. Little girl, don’t stay to play. Little girl, don’t stop and stare. Little girl, don’t twirl your hair. Little girl, please, listen to me! Little girl, loath the charming pretty boys. For they are like roses and like roses they have thorns.
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Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC
Pretty Boys
I hate how they never warn little girls to beware the pretty boys with eyes like gleaming jewels. The boys with soft smiles and music in their laugh. They never warn of boys with pretty faces and blackened hearts. The boys that leave little girls crying in the dark. The ones with words like honey, sickly sweet. The princes with big money, who we dream of sweeping us off our feet. They never speak of boys with danger in their eyes. But beauty true blue. Little girls are never told of boys of silver and boys of gold. The little kings, with angel wings. The little beast neither soft nor sweet. The beauty bombshells, the golden adonis’s. They never speak of boys who run like the winds under their feet. The boys who shine like the stars in the sky. The boys with the world in their grubby mitts. The boys with lips like cotton candy, and sins warm and rich. The ones who have our stomachs doing flips. The ones who seem to have it all shoulders back, standing tall. They never caution of little boys with clever minds and nimble fingers. Of boys with Shakespeare's sonnets in their hair and love songs in their whispers. But little girl, I am telling you now. Beware the pigtail pullers, fear the little Romeos. Heed the heartbreakers Shun smooth talkers. Little girl, don’t give in. Little girl, fear their sins. Little girl, run away. Little girl, don’t stay to play. Little girl, don’t stop and stare. Little girl, don’t twirl your hair. Little girl, please, listen to me! Little girl, loath the charming pretty boys. For they are like roses and like roses they have thorns.
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66
I won't be plucking off petals from my rose like those lovesick Romeos and Juliets on park benches. I don't need luck and petal symmetry to believe. I won't litter the petals like lipstick marks or blood stains on white sheets. I won't be placing them in a vase half full, that's temporary. I have a better plan in mind, a better way to immortalize my rose. Deep within a gift, pressed between pages is a symbol of your love to me.
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 12:55 PM UTC
roses are red
You said you loved me I said I loved you too So that's it right? End of story they all lived happily ever after except not really the miles between us care little for teenagers who think they are in love It has been jaded by too many psuedo-Romeos and Juliets Who get all caught up in idealistic notions of love but **** the road we aren't like them we are true and we are strong aren't we? and I would bridge the gap there's nothing keeping me here except my signature on the lease of my apartment and of course I love this city and I think living in Harrisonburg would only end up with my suicide but some times I just think **** it who's stopping you even if everybody says it's a bad idea isn't that what being young is all about? making really dumb decisions?
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Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
youthful decisions of puppy love
I was the girl who doesn't exist in reality He was the boy who is close to fantasy. We are characters in a tragic love story; Romeo was his first name And Juliet was the girl who consumed me. While Shakespeare's Juliet captured the heart of her Romeo, My Romeo was stolen by somebody else. We were living in two different worlds, And the story of my life shows: *"Not all Romeos and Juliets meet, And I was that Juliet who never met her Romeo."*
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Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
Romeo and Juliet
Wild ducks and grasses mingle so deeply this morn I saw them beneath the blackish red sunny dawn The sun rises behind the clouds, to cover it's face And cry dip dip dip, now and then - this time anytime Aroma has blown on the air, the message is floating Everywhere: Night-birds --street-girls, drunk Romeos go back home O old beggar mom, don't depart your dome and Starve today, Let your breast-feeding baby quite in fasting by red eyes, Pray rain, rain, rain, and raining today day and night Drops on things anywhere, on wild geese, and on grass
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Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 12:55 AM UTC
and the sky has clouds
Scribbles and wine glasses lessen the barrage of acid mist plastered against our glass facade Subway stops and molecules would tear soul in few Ripped ******* and mimosas remind me forcibly of you Stand 4 and sodium the swinging of the pendulum Wishes and ***** dishes Lost in New York City The romeos say I'm so pretty all is a dishonor as time travels us farther **** sonnets.
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
Pascal
there's a game we all know that has a Monopoly over us that doesn't take a dice to throw nor a score to plus its the game of Hearts sometimes complex like Draughts. a game of straight flushing and great blushing in spates of gushing or candid Candy crush Crushing sometimes there's: star crossed Starcraft lovers two-per scenario Super Mario Brothers and the game's a Tetris tete a tete a dual duel between two beating chests each with a Chess set missing a King or Queen they've yet to get Romeos and Juliets though they've only just met and other times; we're just trying to Connect fo(u)r two seconds for once in this scrabble scramble through life Risking it all in the Trivial Pursuit of trying to fit in the Sudoku by following some pseudo social cues of the games creator that says we're failures if we're not in 2player
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Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 5:11 AM UTC
in the game of hearts you sin or lie
She wore her red shoes to Romeos funeral and misssed the stale smell of his cheap cologne and that his lips had always tasted of whiskey she picked up a card and some flowers and a strange ballon for $29 and some spare change from the drug store on Kentucky Ave. where someone had stolen her favorite alligator purse somewhere in the distance a train pulling box cars whistled to the magpies with their wings spread up above just hanging there like kites and she wore a pretty blue gun strapped to her thigh right over where he had left his teeth marks on the forth of July the one he had given her on the Valentine's day he had spent in jail for attempting to rob the jewelry store for the necklace she had wanted for Christmas the December before the same Christmas all he could give her was his favorite skull and crossbones ring tied around the broken piano string he had once tried to wear as a tie they had meet the night he stole her record player and she had happened to be on the wrong side of the road as he made his way from the scene of the crime completely unaware she would steal his heart before he would see another sunrise but that was all before he took a bullet to the chest after avenging his brother that was left to die without his knife they had found his body in the theater with his shoes full of blood and a smile on his face and she knew as his body was lowered into the cold cold ground her new favorite color was going to be blue come next Valentine's day
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Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
Romeos funeral
She wore her red shoes to Romeos funeral and misssed the stale smell of his cheap cologne and that his lips had always tasted of whiskey she picked up a card and some flowers and a strange ballon for $29 and some spare change from the drug store on Kentucky Ave. where someone had stolen her favorite alligator purse somewhere in the distance a train pulling box cars whistled to the magpies with their wings spread up above just hanging there like kites and she wore a pretty blue gun strapped to her thigh right over where he had left his teeth marks on the forth of July the one he had given her on the Valentine's day he had spent in jail for attempting to rob the jewelry store for the necklace she had wanted for Christmas the December before the same Christmas all he could give her was his favorite skull and crossbones ring tied around the broken piano string he had once tried to wear as a tie they had meet the night he stole her record player and she had happened to be on the wrong side of the road as he made his way from the scene of the crime completely unaware she would steal his heart before he would see another sunrise but that was all before he took a bullet to the chest after avenging his brother that was left to die without his knife they had found his body in the theater with his shoes full of blood and a smile on his face and she knew as his body was lowered into the cold cold ground her new favorite color was going to be blue come next Valentine's day
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Spanish version with some french words in it (); Juliet Omnipotente, te uno del considerando Shakespherian. je suis tu totalidad inamorato, Dans le roi tu de tu razón sublime, como tis, tú eres el único que tengo seno. santuario mío !!!! (English translated- ) Omnipotent Juliet Thee one of Shakespherian recital Je suis thy wholly inamorato Dans le roi of thy sublime reason, As tis Thou art mine only ***** Mine sanctum!!! French words in both translations are these+ Je suis - means I am Dans le- means in the Roi- means king Translated from french to engish.. Sorry used french and Spanish and old English here.. Strange I am today lol
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
Romeos spanish juliet
One million and one tiny houses span this city where one million unsatisfied lovers sleep. Does Romeos childish grin see more than these unlit brick roads reveal? In darkness lovers die alone. Oh Romeo,           what did you find in her eyes tonight?
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 12:00 AM UTC
Tiny Houses
I remember all the "chosen ones" All the ones that caught my eyes I recall all of the villains And the classic "nice guys" I remember all the Romeos The seducers and wooers alike I knew all the "we're just friends" And "love you like a brother" types I remember all the gentlemen The ones who held the door I'm branded by the cretins though And made of me a ***** I remember so many of the talking boys The ones who needed to vent They'd knew I never slept at night And converse until the blackness was spent I remember all the heartbreakers And those few that never left The randoms that came sneaking in The ones who thought they knew best I remember the wishful thinking And the craving to catch your eyes I acknowledge the reluctance of letting you go And at times I never tried I remember the lessons And I repeat the mistakes There're so many fish in the sea And I only have a lake Please remember that I loved you Or I did the best that I could do And if there's a part of you remembers me Just know my memory is perfect too
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Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
I remember
If your gilded hands touch another woman Despite the cursed curves of the dark Romeos whom I devour My disgrace will be blood and ribbon Despite the sanctum I’ve discovered as a grave and guard tower I suppose While no one knows All is mirth and jest But you know When the kingdom comes and goes No ghosts remain at rest **** sonnets.
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Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
William
If the whole worlds a stage, shouldn't you have to pay to watch my show? As the tempest whirls around us, don't we all wish for a prince to rock up and save us? Or is Caliban searching and hoping we'll succumb To the horrors that fall like stars. In a midsummer nights dream, the boys are all beauties, All blue eyes and magic and promise. While he plays an *** is he mirroring us? As we double, double, toil and trouble, The fire burning and bubbling in the inferno we call a heart. We call out in the dark for our Romeos Wanting to leave our names behind us So watch as I unfurl Like a lily on a pond Eight petals, Eight walls, My globe, My stage.
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Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
said shakespeare
Riddle me this my friend sweet Look at my face, every day we meet Thirteen the number You cant find Who am I tell me do, what i have in mind Riddle me this my friend sweet I come with a friend to light the heat Scratch my head I turn dark Tell me now to earn your mark Riddle me this my friend sweet Waiting for you with a fleet Bringing joy in the night Try to count me you wont get it right Riddle me this my friend sweet Let us go for a walk in the street Let me lift you to the sky high Romeos in the street to give a sigh The riddles over my friend sweet Find the answer I give a treat If you can do not run Tell it to others and share the fun
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Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
Riddle me this
...so he said You are the jewel in the crown Skin so smooth, almond like brown Teeth white as the winter snow To you my princess, I kneel to bow ...and she replied If I am the jewel in the crown I belong to a King not you clown If my skin is smooth and brown Why do you wag your tail around? If my teeth is white like snow So what! Why can't you understand my 'No' Calling me a princess and bowing is fine But if you try crossing your flirting line My slap will turn your face red to shine! Don't bother me, spoilt creatures, Else you'll be counting your infinite stitches! Move away, I am not here for roadside speeches Else you'll be pushed in the ***** pool of leeches...BEHIND YOU! ©sim
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 9:57 PM UTC
Road Romeos
Beer bellied Romeos stepping up to the ****** trough so their three inch piece of manhood can stand up , wives in line two picking up Xanax for the month to remove all memory of Studs ****** inclination ..Morbidly obese people jamming garbage into their buggies with a case of Diet Coke on top to avoid excess sugar ? Suits with their cell phones pressed against their ears , getting the Tuesday night grocery list sorted out , wishing they could be anywhere else but here ! Fifteen cash registers , three open , twenty people waiting their turn....A bank conveniently located here to get the cash , to buy the trash , that makes you ill , got to get " the pills " from the friendly pharmacist running the drug mill here in Grocery We Got it All Heaven for cattle , looking like their in line to be branded people like you and I , checking off a list , loading our metal wagons , in our own little world , bombarded by marketing ne'er do wells , stacking high dollar items where a child looks directly at them ! Every **** item in the store is apparently discounted ! Save ! Save ! Save is printed everywhere ! Nobody's being saved here for sure !..Later ..
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
Observations this evening at the local "Super Store"
we should have queried the lady moon oh all our lives they end too soon she’s seen the romeos and the juliets is our love forever or are we done yet? she’s like an ivory dragon in the sky watching over us she will cry she knows how this goes, the way the water flows oh how i wish i could keep her company sell your secrets and we’ll write you a symphony
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Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
Above
Romeos  never come too late to rescue your Juliets Juliets don’t wait in vain. Life is too precious. Shell ✨🐚
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Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 6:25 PM UTC
Priorities
Flowers, candies and things so dear, Poems and paeans, you won’t even care to hear; I used to yearn for you and sing you lullabies But now dear fickle, I’m bidding you good bye; Gone now, are the roses and chocolates and then again, sweet nothings and moonlit dates Forget about fairy tales and Cupid’s arrows **** those subtle lies, stupid Romeos borrow Another listless prose, as it may seem, No flowery thoughts, nor sugar and cream; Only stale and rancid caffeine boost, One thing my dear, for all of these, all is still not lost. No ifs and buts, and secrets left unspoken, Only heartaches untended and promises broken. Vague delusions of happy endings come to nothing; One kiss good-bye isn’t even worth remembering.
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
Another Listless Prose
You're on many meeting sites. Trying to find someone to give your heart too. But with all the compettion sites. Why be surprised to see someone's using you? The schemes and the games of lines they uses upon you. They saying them all repetiously to them too. You look great. You're the one I need. You make my life totally complete. You're what was missing in my life? The con artist knows the ways to your heart. All because you open it up for them to enter in. Erroll Flynn or Valentino was considered romeos. Same type of guys women chase and wants to know. Then complains about when getting used. We all are tools to a fool. Used for all purposes when needed. Life is for living and learning.
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Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 11:42 AM UTC
Living and Learning
It was a trick of the light and a play on words and the curtain call came late and the actors forgot their throats and the dancers could not find their feet the mad men were taken by sanity and the poets came down with respectful writing jobs and the stage was still a world but the audience was bored the earth was skipping on a broken turntable but the wax was lost with the death of the bee the milk of human kindness oddly enough didn’t taste as good when not stolen from the cow and I guess that should be expected from a species that hoarded the trademark of kindness and then locked it behind bars of fear and mistrust don’t believe what you see and don’t talk to people who are strange and most importantly just do as you are told until you are dumb and deaf and old a quite cog and silent spring won’t wake the dead keep all your dreaming monsters inside your head its all just for show hush that little voice and enjoy the ride it’s a simple fact of life why resist when we’re all just going to die actors in cages pretending to live free reciting our lines there’s no place like home if home is where the heart is why does it sound like our hearts are beating from the palm of the devils hand It was just a trick of words as they played with our lives and slit our throats and bound our feet dead marionettes strutting like Romeos waiting to die by the suicide of our Juliets romance is only beautiful in the humor and satire of tragedy its irony without iron a bullet without a gun a trick of the light as we play with our words and forget about love
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Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
a play of words and the death of love
It was a trick of the light and a play on words and the curtain call came late and the actors forgot their throats and the dancers could not find their feet the mad men were taken by sanity and the poets came down with respectful writing jobs and the stage was still a world but the audience was bored the earth was skipping on a broken turntable but the wax was lost with the death of the bee the milk of human kindness oddly enough didn’t taste as good when not stolen from the cow and I guess that should be expected from a species that hoarded the trademark of kindness and then locked it behind bars of fear and mistrust don’t believe what you see and don’t talk to people who are strange and most importantly just do as you are told until you are dumb and deaf and old a quite cog and silent spring won’t wake the dead keep all your dreaming monsters inside your head its all just for show hush that little voice and enjoy the ride it’s a simple fact of life why resist when we’re all just going to die actors in cages pretending to live free reciting our lines there’s no place like home if home is where the heart is why does it sound like our hearts are beating from the palm of the devils hand It was just a trick of words as they played with our lives and slit our throats and bound our feet dead marionettes strutting like Romeos waiting to die by the suicide of our Juliets romance is only beautiful in the humor and satire of tragedy its irony without iron a bullet without a gun a trick of the light as we play with our words and forget about love
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Modern-day English My promise to you is always to love, I will endure quietly until the end. You are like an elegant pure white dove, I will be your lover and your best friend. I will listen until tomorrows, I will fight and I will always treasure. You are as beautiful as a red rose, It will be just me and you forever. I will walk beside you hand in hand, I will tend to you when you're in sorrow. Cause you are my percussion to my band, I’ll build you up from here until tomorrow. I love your heart, your soul, and your singing, Because you’re my favorite human being. Shakespearean My Promise to you is always to love, I shall endure anything until the end. you are like an elegant pure white dove, I shall be thy lover and thy bestest friend. I shall listen from here to the tomorrows, I shall protect you and I shall cherish your treasure. thou art as quite beautiful as a red rose, It will be just me and thee forever. I shall walk beside you hand in hand, I shall tend to you even if you are in sorrow. Cause you are my percussion to my band, I’ll build you up from here until tomorrow. I love thy heart, thy soul, and thy singing, because you’re my own favorite human being
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
Romeos Vows