"sedate" poems
People stare at me with confused eyes
They ask to know where my secret lies
They wonder where I found my gait
They love the way I articulate
The softness of my arms
My captivating youthful charm:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman
I walk with a quirky poise
People whisper, and it's a delightful noise
The smile on my lips
The curve of my hips
They say I've always been this cool
But honey, do not be fooled:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman
They see fire in my eyes
They say I'm for keeps 'cause I'm a prize
There is a grace in my vibes
Something good to imbibe
The warmth I bring
The joy I bring:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman
There is something about me
How did I come to be?
The reason behind my womanly pride
The reason for my sedate stride
My aura, as that of a beloved emperor
My shoulders high like that of a conqueror:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman
They say I am a mystery
There's definitely more to me
In the stillness of my mind
In the presence of my kind
I become more of the woman I am meant to be
The best of me you are yet to see:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 3:29 AM UTC
Brain, brain go away
Don't want to listen one more day
Already lonely and afraid
Feel insecure and full of shame
Brain, brain don't act this way
You're always angry; Filled with hate
You know we're joined; Can't separate
Yourself your punching in the face
Brain, brain what can I say
To make it so you see things straight
Don't know how much more I can take
Of constant warring and debate
Brain, brain it's getting late
This journey's not some endless race
Life's flying by and at this pace
Forget a win; Not gonna place
Brain, brain let's medicate
I'll feed you drugs and we'll sedate
The only way to mitigate
Discrepancies we generate
Brain, brain we sadly waste
This outcome feels like it was fate
But never was there a sealed date
Fulfilling what we self-create
Brain, brain so much we faced
Success so close could almost taste
Instead our tail we always chased
We'll die alone sad and disgraced
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 9:48 AM UTC
Arrange my mind's galaxies and planets.
Sedate angry asteroids and burning comets.
Align for me my heart's constellations.
Clear the clouded nebulae in my intentions.
Turn the moon gently to look upon me,
So I may find the sea of tranquillity...
Tonight.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
Your suffering is always greater than mine,
you claim your fears are bigger.
Whine your feelings are better than mine,
insist my feelings are simpler.
Try to laugh my feats away like a joke,
but my will is more forward than yours.
Now don’t expect any warmth from me,
my spirit won’t be ignored.
You think you can quiet my defiance?
But I'm used to standing alone.
Your ego trips never get old
they only harden my resolve.
So you timidly try and silence me,
then make excuses to escape.
‘Cause your wits won't handle me long,
I’m the one you can’t sedate.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
tiny glowing squares
penetrate my retinas
and spike into my brain
quick-fix pleasure migraine
[a drug, almost]
six-inch screen turned shrine
temple television:
be my proxy
mother
father
friend
and
lover
digital aura glow
comfort and sedate me:
tell me i'm beautiful
tell me i'm right
tell me you love me
tell me you'll never leave my side
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Like a toddler taking maiden steps
The narrow stream moves through the woods
Tripping and falling over pebbles and boulders
Chiming its silver anklets
Forcing itself in irrepressible flow
It thrusts and shoves its way down
Through thickets and a line of ferns
And the tangle of creepers and thorny brambles
Drowning the whisper of bamboo leaves
Its sweet murmur falls in my ears
As an eternal living melody
The cosmic song heard over eons
As the water sluices down the rocks
It becomes a frothing braided torrent
Producing a harsh grating roar
Like the crescendo of a tribal symphony
There it forms into a small pool
With its waves gently rippling
Where birds merrily come to take a dip
And sunning their feathers, fly back refreshed
Sometimes travelling unseen
It suddenly emerges into the open
Cutting its way through cracks and fissures
Never willing to surrender before hurdles
With a bearing immaculate in grace
It sends out waves of pure delight
What joy it is to watch the dilly dally
Of this sedate pilgrim moving to its destination
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 10:07 AM UTC
I am a fœtus
Swimming in darkness
Oblivious to the world around me
I am a new born
Opening my eyes for the first time
Taking my first breathe
Crying the first of many tears
Confused by my sight and the light around me
I am a toddler
Crawling my way across a universe made of shapes sounds colors
Overdose of senses
Too many things happening simultaneously I
Just stare around and try to make sense of this madness
I am a child
Taking my first step into childhood by standing upright
And walking around the world on my own two feet
It's the first of many steps
I will move forward to take over the world
With my eyes ears hands nose mouth
Overdose of senses
I am a teenager
Feeling my heart break for the first time
A broken friendship
A broken love
Deception in human kind
For the first time I wonder why
Why are we here?
If we suffer so much and so intensly
My heart breaks and I cry and I shake and I have no idea what is happening
Overdose of senses
I am a young adult
Wondering about the future for the very first time
Where I fit in
Will I fit in
How do I fit in
What will I do for the rest of my life?
Overdose of questions
I am an adult
Worrying about taxes and marriage and kids
I have settled down I have a career and I look back
On the days all the things that mattered were grades and friends
I am happy but is this the life I dreamed of?
Or did I settle for less than I wanted?
What would happen if I left it all now?
Overdose of questions
I am an old grandma
Relaxing eveyr morning with a cup of coffee
Next to the man who shared my life for so long
I look back on life and realize I am happy
I have made choices that lead me here and now I
Am happy
Overdose of emotions
I am a senile grandma
No one claims me anymore
I am in a care home where most people don't care
I am one of many and
I look back on my life everynight when the demons come and visit me
So I yell out in hopelessness and they sedate me
I am faced with loneliness and there are so many things I wish I had done
Overdose of emotions
Heart attack
No heartbeat
I am dead.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:10 AM UTC
i.
Tis, tis, the first Christmas
With mine queen;
Tis, it is, mi amour
And her king.
ii.
Tis, though distances
Shalt separate;
Verily I sayest
Mine Reyna,
Thou art
Right in mine
Heart and soul.
Tis this is ourn
Fate.
iii.
Soon O' soon, we shalt
Hath a dinner date;
With yellow roses to
Wrap thine neck,
And mine kisses
To become to thee,
As peaceful sedate.
iv.
As tis, I wilt wait
In death, or in life
To bow on one knee,
To court thee mine queen;
To maketh thee in person
v.
Mine queen and mine wife.....
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
~Your lips sedate me~
and your arms
Your arms provide
Comfort
as my body
My body provides
Security
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 3:22 PM UTC
Probe me antagonists,
For I am no longer afraid-
Of your shunning or your lynching,
Or stoning, or blade.
You all stare with luscious eyes,
Jealous, cruel-fiends.
Malicious and vindictive,
Hating by all means.
Under the sheets-
Gasping beyond belief,
You kick me,
I can not breath.
No longer am I easy,
No longer tease to please.
Sick with rage and frustration,
Consumed like a disease.
I know when you lie to me,
The only question is why?
Who said you could judge?
Who made you GOD when they died?
Stare at me, look into my eyes!
Oh how I trusted you and you made me cry!
Let down, alone
I crumble by his side.
Running from reality, he holds me at night.
When silent sobs seep from inside.
I wanna scream, but instead I hide.
And sedate myself from your hellish wealth,
And your perfect life,
And your easy ride.
I'm alone and I'm fine.
I do not need you to pry.
Or to pity me as I die.
Twisted and dismayed;
I am ****** but definitely unafraid.
Foolish and used,
Ill live to see another day.
And the pain you caused will finally fade.
And the love we knew will be replaced.
I'm moving on and out of place.
I don't need you, or your approving face.
And all of its grace.
Your drama and chilling pace-
Graphic and slow, savor the chase.
God what a waste.
People just love to hate.
'Round and 'round,
Stuck in their rut of a mental state.
Dyeing, hell-bent on leaving a trace,
On hurting and watching me break.
Karma neither is predictable,
Nor is it fast.
One day you'll bear the burden
And the pain of an outcast.
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 2:35 PM UTC
a quote of Bernard-Henri Lévy
~~~
the divers’ recovery, diverse,
shipwrecked salvage from different locations,
auctioned to the highest bidder,
tho the excised excerpts are exceptional,
none come to do the bidding,
for the provenance of words
belongs to all, and to none
~~
“so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction”
“the addicted pleasure words granted to we privileged few,
like every enslaved soul to the mind, which I am, I am,
evening dreams, midnight thinkings, sunrise seeings,
how can I infect and thus protect the young to the liberty
to love the crafted content of our human essence to better
comprehend that a moment caught on tape of our shared
words is a holiday, a celebration for the ages...and every molecule,
becomes a human tuning fork in concert, in pitch identical, in blood tainted with the simplicity of we are all the same, only words, this will transmit”
“murmur me, with soft downy charms,
these words discovered
recoursed and intended well to
pointedly offset and contradict
their very own tumultuous discovery uncovering,
tear tongue me
with calming, lapping word wages,
hymns harmonious and fine homilies,
a call, a request,
a bequest
to sedate my shrill life
“some cells, microscopic, preserved digitally,
aged to imperfection, thrash my eyes,
making me speak in tongues I do not recognize,
but fluently possess, no wonder there,
the memory place fairly empty,
room aplenty for passerby's and the imagery
of the vaguest of dearly departed
skin is not the only mot shed,
sloughing of woeful words”
“speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor these words at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them”
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
Making deliv-eries,
drugs of every kind.
Got some that will sedate you,
and some that will blow your mind.
Making deliv-eries,
just trying to ply my trade.
Since i started selling drugs,
can't believe the friends I've made.
Everyone is eager,
bound to big you up.
All in a selfish,
downward spiral,
trying to get ****** up.
The glamour and the tragedy,
of people in the gutter.
But now I'm selling drugs,
it is my bread and butter.
Got to turn it over,
and try to make a buck.
Couple of quid short,
here and there ..
but I don't give a ****
Making my deliv-eries,
police not far behind.
Put my **** on the line,
in a bid to blow your mind.
Flashing lights,
neon blue,
right upon my tail.
They're about to pull me over,
I'm about to go to jail.
( (c) P Skez 04/01/2014)
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
Prologue
casual glance at my notifications while driving even though
I’m all ready a bad bad boy, cruising at a sedate,
cruise-controlled 70 mph vs. the bureaucrat bifocals 55,
a remnant regulation of the Eighties,
all the while humming with Gilligan
“a 3 hour tour,
2 passengers set sail that day”
then execute a four lane 180,
gotta get highway sideway grassed ,
cause i’m gassed...
by a Poem Breach
of the poems promised by me,
to write of thee,
you, my best inspiration,
the list grows longer, faster
than the hours provided
pull over fast emergency for my composure breached,
my vision wetted, my eyes hit by an unplanned unexpected,
sudden summer thunderstorm
<•>
The Poem Breach
***once more into the breach thy words breeze through my chest,
like on a flamed stick, night roasting, toasting beach summer marshmallows,
that cut direct to the ineffable sadness that resides resists within,
that sticky, white mess,
a human heart melting
a thank you message that I’ve read before,
many times more than once,
how my unasked poem, a sun unique,
arrived at the
precise time and place,
to lift and even save,
how could I’ve know?
I did not know
but these messages collect on my chest,
unsought words of purple ribbon metal that make a
less burdened cowardly lion,
grown man cry,
do crazy things for it is a possible solution to his
age old quest
Why do I exist, is this my purposed plan, don’t understand, all
but the answer peaked and peaceful accepted in the breach unreasoned,
my port of entry, a gateway to the scales, a bridge it is, over a time-life river styx and unstuck, yet certainly always confused...***
“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”
thank you so insufficient
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
I am The Funny Man
I'm here to make you laugh
I'm the clown behind the sentence
It's the one disguise I have
I am The Funny Man
I'm on at your request
The keyboard spreads my message
I'll try to do my best
I don't know who I am though
Am I funny or sedate
By the time I find the answer
It may just be too late
I am The Funny Man
On strings that you control
I am your funny puppet
Being funny makes me whole
I am The Funny Man
Dancing at top speed
I live to hear the laughter
It"s the laughter that i need
I don't know who I am though
Am I funny or sedate
By the time I find the answer
It may just be too late
I am The Funny Man
I crave to be on top
I don't know how exactly
To make the funny stop
I am The Funny Man
Yes, that's just who I am
Half clown and half man
And you don't give a ****
I don't know who I am though
Am I funny or sedate
By the time I find the answer
It may just be too late
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 8:59 PM UTC
i.
Cap-a-pie
I loveth thee;
Mine own, mine self
Mine whole, mine queen.
ii.
Lashes and eyes
I loveth thee;
Mine home, mine help
Best friend, and dream.
iii.
Leg's and thighs
I loveth thee;
Mine girl, mine world
Mine living, breathing.
iv.
Spirit and mind
I loveth thee;
I giveth mineself,
To thee in sickness
Or wealth, in good
Times or bad health.
v.
Marry and sedate
Me in passionate
Meed; thou art
Mine want, thou
Art mine yearning,
Mine longing,
Mine need.
vi.
Cap-a-pie
Mine
Queen;
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 2:51 PM UTC
The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue,
The lamp fills with a pale green glow
The trees of the avenue.
The old piano plays an air,
Sedate and slow and gay;
She bends upon the yellow keys,
Her head inclines this way.
Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands
That wander as they list -- -
The twilight turns to darker blue
With lights of amethyst.
3.3k
I wonder whats so appealing about demons and their temptations
Or about characters who don't quite have their stories straight
Claiming the day is to come but never actually sets a date
Lost in a trail of their own confusion
In the hopes they might sedate it
But with the path of destruction left in their wake
They couldn't help but feel ashamed, right?
I mean, don't you?
You couldn't be so foolish
Or be so heartless
To realize this isn’t right
You only surpass me in age by a year and yet
You’ve become quite bitter
I try to understand but to be this lost
Is simply lost to me
I'm told to just try to understand that we all have demons
But must they manifest in this nature?
Then demand the respect of your allies with disrespect
It makes no sense
Do you see how vulnerable a piece is when the pawns are gone
Don't you hate feeling like you're all alone?
I truly wonder if you get it though,
Because its truly sad to see
Especially that day you spoke to me
I saw someone who wanted to become accepted
You just went about it the wrong way
and I can’t help but wonder what lead you so astray?
Whether it be a troubled past or you just like to be a pain in the ***
I hope you find some peace
In this chaotic battlefield you call life.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
Walking into the Reception Hall,
they stole the show away,
A regal pair they were,
with a little bit of Butch
and Sundance swagger shown.
A confident air, not at all underserved.
Dressed with just enough elegance.
Their posture and hue ,
sleek and silky golden,
like a duet of Cheetahs.
Eyes alert and searching
for prey. Alert for danger.
Like a herd of antelope,
all heads turned to look,
The men perhaps out of desire,
the women staring envy at them,
Like the twin bores of a loaded gun.
Mother and fetching daughter,
From twenty feet, hard to tell
which, one was one, or the other.
Long blond hair, full and fine,
both women tall, statuesque,
moving with grace and ease.
The mother my old friend,
the daughter all grown up now,
each having a smile that would
light up anyone's darkness of mood.
We greeted one another,
hugs and hand shakes shared.
A little conversation in the crowded room,
Many pairs of eyes upon us there.
Enchanted is the word that best describes
my impression, this duo as intelligent and
charming as they were beautiful to see.
The mother sedate, classy and yet open
and free, no pretense, no games just naturally
at ease. As lovely as I remembered her to be.
Her offspring, vivacious, spirited and bold,
smart as whip, with a tongue that could
draw blood if she desired it to.
Chatty and funny, sure of herself,
in the manner of beautiful people,
yet not in a pompous way, merely
Confident in self and her place in the world.
She possessed all the character traits you
would wish your own daughter to have.
Her Mother had done well is raising her.
Too soon they moved on,
meeting and greeting others',
out of my hearing and seeing.
Some weeks have passed, a month or two
and yet their strong impression has lingered,
I can't keep them out of my mind.
The Mother, my friend most of all.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 3:11 PM UTC
I think I understand hookups and one-night stands now.
The key to moving on is to replace all that stood before
until there stands nothing that may cause you to unravel.
Moment by moment,
conversation by conversation,
I replace the replays,
I can't bear the thought
of another touching me, like I'm not yours.
I got another ring today, all big and loose.
It's funny how I picked this one,
it keeps slipping off my fingers like you did.
It's been two months since I last wore your ring.
I don't see a difference between them,
it feels the same on my thumb.
and that should be the end of it,
but oh well, I guess it isn't.
I walked to the grocery store, paused at an aisle,
took my time frowning over chocolate bars.
You used to get me Munch, and so I picked the Mars bar.
I don't skip meals now, (well, most days I don't)
and in place of our routine conversations,
I play a random show.
I drown noise with noise.
My days are decent.
I'm surrounded by mindless jibber jabber.
I participate.
I paste a bright smile.
“You look well now,” they say,
“Well, I am” I reply.
And I am fine. (I think I am?)
9/10 times I am.
Then in a random mundane moment,
memories of you resurface like a ring light and
in that single moment,
I let myself crumble.
“I don't want him back.
He's changed now.
So have you and so what?
If it's meant to be, it'll be.
He's the love of my life.
Well don't let him in,
when (not if) he comes back.
Do it from love, not for it.
You deserve happiness.
Both of you do.
You want love.
You are love.
The ocean doesn't look for its water,
Why will you look for what you have?
It is what it is.
and this too shall pass.”
So on and so forth my inner monologue goes on,
and I stare at my phone wondering if I can conjure you from my thoughts.
I am kinder now.
With myself, and everyone around.
I wish I were kinder to you, but I was just a child.
I know you're proud,
and I am of you too.
Do you think I can sculpt my favourite version of you?
Wait, no.
I already did that,
I loved all of you
and then everything fell apart.
My thoughts swirl and I let them play.
Incantations in my head
Obligatory 3 am, weary sighs, contempt and rage.
Oh, so much rage.
Where is the calming lull of sleep, when you need it to sedate your despair?
Resignation sets in, I play a familiar game.
I ask the universe and unbiasedly it delivers the same day.
"Universe, give me a sign, I'm really done this time.
Yellow flowers if he's coming back,
Dandelions if he's not.
Universe let me move on. This is the last time, "
In my version of He loves me, he loves me not
I break flowers, not petals.
I look for answers in colours and not action,
And then I saw a dozen Dandelions.
Jan 17, 2024
Jan 17, 2024 at 4:40 PM UTC
It's such the contradiction
the way you make me feel
like the earth has drunk
the whiskey,
the sun's sober spill.
Tilted on my axis,
weaker in my knees
I don't exactly grasp
the spell you put on me.
You sedate me oh so smoothly,
like ***** in a glass,
My morning mug of coffee,
you keep me clear, fast.
like clockwork, your lips find mine,
and my heart is in your hand
sober and intoxicated
just like you had planned
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
.
I know this place,
light stone avenues,
fig, pear, apricot and apple,
trees that line in rows,
cut paving with neat gutters
**** white granite buildings,
as ferns and creepers
cascade from roof gardens,
the green shining vivid
in appreciation of being alive.
And I connect across the aeons,
this place was my home,
from centuries long passed,
yet reaching out to be found.
The avenues mimic my mind,
long straight and narrow,
broad and winding,
leading to sedate squares
to sit and feel the sun,
to bathe in beautiful isolation.
And the trees sway
casually in a breeze so soft,
it caresses the branches,
enough to tickle the leaves
and cool the ripening fruit.
Here, the forest erupts,
circles around this sanctuary,
forming a natural hedge
to this garden of tranquility,
this oasis in the maelstrom,
this home in my heart.
Flowers of honeysuckle,
jasmine, of clovers and lily,
adorn walls and buildings,
bright in contrast
to the shadows of the trees,
bloom with the intensity of colour,
riotous in hue and arrangement,
yet, ordered to Nature's Law.
Paradise wrapped in image,
slicing through time and space,
my place a thousand years ago,
my place to claim forever,
and the wind carries me home,
I know this place,
because it lives inside of me,
because I made it.
© Pagan Paul (06/06/18)
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
Eventually we'll get implants
to sedate and
make us compliant.
There is no choice here
we have to fight them,
be defiant
buck the system.
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 3:32 PM UTC
It was the early days of the organic food craze
and my wife, ever a slave to the latest fads
(which disposition sometimes benefitted me pleasurably
but mostly cost me dearly)
made me run on an errand
(like: “Fido – go, fetch!”)
to get some organic vegetables
and arriving, I blurted out to the produce guy, stumbling:
*“Some ****** for my wife”* –
and that wise guy, Oxford-educated as he was
(though a failed Professor, so ended up at the greengrocer’s)
he said: *“That you must induce or encourage in your wife, Sir;
I cannot and will not be of service in that connection.”*
And I slowed down and I said:
“Well, dear fellow – for my wife, have you any organic vegetables?”
And Oxford-educated as he was, he did not understand such fads
having mostly a sedate and Classical demeanour
and he pointed his most English nose to the air;
and so I attempted again to sensible-phrase my inquiry:
*“Are your vegetables -
and this I ask on account of my esteemed wife -
sprayed with poisonous chemicals?”*
And the Oxford guy apprehended now, and he pronounced:
*“Poisonous chemicals for your spouse
you must procure yourself, Sir”*
Now, that was an idea. I knew Oxford-educated guys
were smart in some way or other.
And since then I have been free of my wife.
I have no need to run on errands for no baby, no more;
though I do have to count bars,
limited as my numerical skills are,
as is my verbal proficiency.
And the Oxford guy, meanwhile, I have it from the grapevine,
has set up an ******** Food Chain Store*, worldwide;
I knew he’d go places, sooner or later, far and global
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
1170
Nature affects to be sedate
Upon occasion, grand
But let our observation shut
Her practices extend
To Necromancy and the Trades
Remote to understand
Behold our spacious Citizen
Unto a Juggler turned—
2.2k
Stung by an angling fad
He took a fishing rod
And sallied onto the nearby stream
That leaped down a rocky shelf
Forming small cascades
But running down into plain ground
With a placid demure face
Uttering soft murmurs sweet
Aiming at the darting Trout
That made the still waters into spiraling whirls
He swished the rod in the air
With the alacrity of a practiced bowler
Looking at the line sinking low
He waited for the fish to nibble at the bait
Meanwhile, inhaling the salubrious air
And watching the limpid movement of the stream
As the hook line went taut in his grip
Hopefully he pulled it up
But alas! With no ***** to boast!
Patiently sat he there for hours
Like a sculptured God upon a rock
Oh! It requires immense patience
With adroitness to boot
To be an angler, no doubt
That sure is a sedate man’s pursuit!
Angling rarely fetches any major luck
Except now and then a fresh fish upon one’s plate
Yet following one’s heart’s pursuit
Is worth more than all tangible reward it brings!
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 12:14 PM UTC