"sightseeing" poems
Katie the previous lives lady tries to rescue her nephew
Katie's nephew Jackson Gooden is in town to spend some time with Katie and it couldn't have come at a worst time, you see the kidnapper who kidnapped Graham Thorne, well his reincarnation was in town and he was getting a messed up head with everyone telling him he was mentally deranged, the only one who helped him was Katie, and when Katie took time off to look after her nephew when he's in town, he almost flipped his marbles untill he decided to prove to everyone else that he is Steven Bradley and use Katie as a blackmail target, you see what he plans to do is kidnap Katie's 15 year ok'd nephew Jackson and blackmail Katie,if she refuses to see him, the weight will fall on her nephews head and **** him, yes this is the way for Katie to make sure she makes me happy.
Katie begged for him to let him go, and then say you will be a pig in your next life, what you do here affects your future happiness, let my nephew go and we'll talk about treatment for your illness, and he said that he thought she'd understood him, but really she is just like the other's, and Katie had to keep telling him that he is good and will never stray, and she did that because her patient had a pocket knife at her nephews head, and Katie said, I believe this is the wrong way to handle your illness,,I told you that you kidnapped a kid, and seconds later you have my 15 year old nephew at knifepoint, you are
******* up, and also you are making a mockery of my good business, he just laughed still determined he'll **** him
And make Katie jitter.
Jackson tried to scream, so the knife would be removed from his neck, and Katie said, I will find a way that this man can't ever harm you,,you have to refuse to go anywhere with him, he had a weakness, and that is, if you laugh at him, he'll suddenly be scared of him, and Katie then said that she doesn't believe in laughing in her job, but she decided to make a exception here, because really she wanted time off with Jackson.
The reincarnation of Steven Bradley said that he will hold Jackson and Katie for a huge ransom and Jackson said, you can't get me, I am too smart, you see i am young, you are old
I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, i'm a young dude, your an old fogie, I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, a stinken little old fogie ma--n.
And then he ran and Jackson said 1 win for young against old, and then Jackson and Katie spent time sightseeing for 4 days and Katie, I know she is born to tell people previous lives stories, really enjoyed being away from the office and when she came back,,the first phone call made was a phone call to the cops, issueing a restraining order on that Steven Bradley reincarnation, and then Jacksoc went back to his parents house saying he was kidnapped by a ghost while Katie tried a new approach to tell people previous lives, so she can keep love one's safe for the future of her business, yes that's what she'll do.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
*I lost my innocence in a battle of wits
Over a dinner of boiled rice and fried meats
His debate ground my overrated intelligence to bits
But it wasn't time, I wouldn't call it quits
We went on to the starlit, moonful park
We weren't sightseeing, I had to hit my mark
Everything I said was turned down with a reasonable reason
The more I tried to win the more I kept losing
We walked and talked and I realized
That our supposedly romantic dinner had been politicized
As we stood on my porch and called it a night
His lips touched mine, I didn't put up a fight
I laid a final claim in regards to our banter
His keen eyes widened I'd given him something to ponder
Later that night, I received his call
He asked for a rematch, I smiled, there'd be another date after all*
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
Can I write you a love song
I’ll sing it softy in your ear all night long
Blow gently without words on my saxophone
Diamond and Pearls behind the throne
A beautiful ensemble meant for only you
As I give credence too
Take my hand
Cross this journey with me as I sing about faraway lands
Past Egypt pyramids shifting Morocco sands
Lay back my love, allow your mind to silently drift
Feel the enchantment of my piano keys as it spiritual uplifts
I’ll sing love songs of old
A cappella chorus echoed from deep within my enlighten soul
I’ll sing to you about the blues, society’s injustice, and elements of darken storms
Keep your heart warm, while playing my French Horn
Enrapture foretold from this dedicated symphonic poem
A music sheet of percussion, woodwind, brass, keyboard, and strings
Harmony carrying the mind away as the joy of coming spring
I’ll hum your favorite beats, can you feel the crescendo now
Fiddle from the heart by the sweat of one’s brow
Submerge your cerebral cortex, lose yourself in the sultry tunes
Harp sounds bathe of light kissed from the illuminating moon
Destiny overcasts in the lyrics
Fate floating stratospheric
Karma of others handled in the eyes of satiric
Opera, I give you so grand in its grace
French Creole dialect murmured among silk and lace
Sounds of my flute resonant to face
Allowing my Cello sounds to thoroughly embrace
Can I write you a love song
Body and soul serenading soprano to keep you standing strong
My guitar stringing your philosophies along
An equal equation, one plus one equals two
Emotions, feelings, sentiments, its tenor expressed only for you
No compass to my heart, my seasonal love found in hidden melodies
Trombone guiding back and forth breathless as it please
Orchestra sounds
Ascending minds, bodies, souls, pass the opening clouds, divine and profound
The last note sung by me as we gradually come down
Beautiful music embraced, needs never to make a sound
Shh, close your eyes
Meditate on the music for a little while
Hush sweet baby don’t say a word
My heart softly tweets to a mockingbird
If that mockingbird don’t sing
Can I write you a love song created only for your being
As minds are sightseeing
Hearts fleeing
Timpani drums guaranteeing
Entwined of our divine wellbeing
Emotions freeing
Crooning of bodies heard as the day is long
Can I write you a love song
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
Pussycat Dolls,
Pussycat Dolls,
Where have you been?
We've been up to London
To see Queen The Musical
Then went to see the mayor
Hid his computer mouse
On his electric chair.
Switched it on!
Not so much PC -
More AC/DC
And then we were gone
On a sightseeing trip
With an aunt and a niece.
Poor Boris Johnson
RIP.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
The old fishing boat shiny, worn yet proud
Had many an old fish bone scraped across its deck
Heard stories that would make your hair curl
and had seen weather at its worst but what the heck.
Had seen all the fish available from all the seas
nothing would surprise this old girl anymore.
Had the strength to carry on whatever the gale
Grin and bear it or go as you have gone before.
Its engine, had seen some time in its old life
struggling through seas as high as waves could get
Through ice as thick as an island so as to speak
and the new fishing boats wince if they get wet.
They would not last five seconds in conditions
like my fishermen have served thought the boat
Well if it could think that is what it would think
They look delicate and I dare say they would float.
But now the old fishing boat was being admired
stroked lovingly by tourists with cameras and tales.
Ice cream accidentally smeared on the deck
With its worn polished look and ragged sails.
But it was proud, and so it should be
For the fish it has fed folk, fishermen it had sailed
But now it had a place in tourist's heart, the town
It was admired, photographed and now emailed.
A buyer with plenty of money and hope in his heart
had bargained and won his bid. It was now his dream
to sail the boat with children on board and parents
sightseeing on board complete with a holiday team
Dressed in navy and white striped with straw hat
No fishing lines, nets, poles just an orange float.
With a sign that indicated the price of the trip
A retirement, a nice little trip for the fishing boat.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
If only we could fly like
those that tweet or hoot
without aid of jet or
parachute
For I sure don't like
wings that boom and roar
just so they can take off
and soar
Ah, to fly without petrol, diesel
or fuel
Oh, to halt that taloned midair
duel *
Birds they don't pollute
the air
nor need they any airline
fare
So if only I too could rise
and glide
and let the wind be my
sole guide
I'd be happy to fly all the
way to 'em' faraway stars
if I was assured I'd risk
no charring scars.
Flying without aviation
formalities
I could be sightseeing
many more cities
Ah I so wish to fly just
like a jay or jackdaw
Then I'd fly across all and
every border
For I'd know nor follow
no man-made law!
If only we needed no darned immigration pass or visa
We could have visited so many more touristy places
Say even the spectacular and popular pyramids of Giza
And we could have known different cultures and races
Ah, a stylish photo next to the leaning tower of Pisa
And return with exotica like a framed pic of the Mona Lisa
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
I saw a man dead today
Head on
Chest liquid
Legs no longer
The truck he collided with
Totaled
A human sized dent
The bike he rode
Destroyed
The compressions don’t help
Though many try
Human’s banded together for one man
Who stood no chance
In this death I learned
There is good in this world
In this death I learned
There is sadness
Once a friend
Gone for now
Yet he lives on in the friends he rode with
Those who witnessed that horrific incident
I did not know him
I never saw his face
We prayed for him
For those he was with
For those who have seen
For those who grieve
For ourselves
I saw a man dead today
But remembered why we live
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
The flipside of the day
Brings a lot of melodies
Of painful journals
At most the moon and stars are dead
For those eyes that lament for the beloved
The breezy sound of the wind
Doesn't bring a beautiful song of serenity
Instead a tune of sinister
Darker than the night
Because the lullabies of every nocturnal
An echoing elegies
For those who were left behind
Sightseeing imaginary images
Whispering song for them
Every night
Still dying inside
5-25-2016
Mysterious_aries
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
I hate resorts and I hate vacations.
I hate birthdays, I hate celebrations.
I hate pop radio stations and I hate cajun seasoning
I hate New York I hate the feeling,
I hate being a tourist I hate sightseeing.
I tried being happy I tried doing the right thing,
Until I tried smashing through the glass ceiling and broke my hand on the concrete.
I thought an apple a day keeps the doctor away
I figured out that he's just running late on the subway
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 9:27 AM UTC
Belly full of water
Brush, spit, and repeat…
Temporary painted cobweb of ******
Crust, synthetic yellow, and discomfort
Constantly sightseeing shirts I don’t own
Slim, disproportionate, and underweight
My senior-prom photos exist, still
2009, RIP: Caniglia's Venice Inn, and tie-dye.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 12:42 AM UTC
the world’s so unpredictable
so different, difficult and uncomfortable often
that I wish everyone were like me
just like me, or better still, exactly like me…
you’ll see, this is the only solution, logically –
beyond the shadow of a doubt, as many are inclined to say,
which expression in itself I find so inconvenient …
you see
because you and you and you are not like me
it all becomes such a waste
with all the negotiation and adjustments
and time spent and funds depleted
in persuasion and information campaigns
but just imagine:
if everybody were like me
and I had to attend a meeting
and of course everybody had to attend the meeting
how convenient and efficient and quick that would be
cos it’s all just
me, me, me and me
and yet more me, me, me, me and me…
Indeed need we hold meetings at all?
since it’s all me? Just me?
Cos if you are me, and everyone else is me
in my Brave New Me World,
all me know what each me thinks
and wants, than we need not meet me
and one me wherever one is can initiate,
conduct and finish the me meeting…
You get me?
and think of it on a national scale too…
if everyone were like me,
exactly like me –
so that all we have is
me, me, me and me
and yet more me, me, me, me –
imagine the nation in all its simplicity and convenience;
there’d be no need to argue with me
because me agrees with me
and me is one religion, me is one will, one thought,
one language (gibberish, but still one language)
and everything in the nation
will just have to be planned for me.
Simple:
satisfy me and satisfy all
for it’s all me…
for me is the Nation
I leave it to you
to think more of this Me Nation
(or do you need some animation?)
And that silly United Nations -
do you think if everyone were like me
or better still exactly like me,
do we need to have all these delegates and dignitaries flying around
(and sometimes shoes flying too)
and eating half the UN funds in dinners and perks and sightseeing?
Oh, think about it –
if everyone were like me
just as in the Me Nation
you won’t have all this waste in Me UN…
You don’t even need the UN;
just Me is enough
the Me UN…
And what about the world?
have you thought about it?
with me all over the world
and if everyone in the world
were me, me, me, and me and me –
you know, a Chinese me, and an Indian me,
an American me, a Russian me
black me, white me, Christian me, Muslim me, Hindu me,
or atheist me - whatever me is, all is -
and so on
native me and foreign me
just me, me , me, me, me
(Oh, I just love this me!)
everywhere me
and then if I were the President of the world
which I will surely be
cos every me will choose me
cos everyone will want me to be the President
and with President Me
no one will disagree
and there’s no waste
and the word will be so pleasant –
cos I’m no *********
(will me want to hurt me?)
And everything will be so easily arranged
and every me will be in a happy world society
as me is the best me to become every me
One me will be the same as me
and me happy is all happy
And President Me need not worry about
Opinion Polls and votes and what the people want
and President Me need not give lies
and Me People need not listen to ****
cos it’s all just me,
me, and me -
and as if I don’t know what I think,
and what I want, and as if I’d want to kick my own ****
and so it’ll be a Presidency where everyone will be happy
because all things are made for me and planned the way for me
and it’ll be a perpetual everlasting Presidency
for with everyone like me, everyone being me
it’ll be always me coming
new generations or old or dying or single moms and dads
always
me, me, me and more and more me, me, me, me
for perpetuity
and so how about you, what do you think?
Wouldn’t it be all more efficient
and the world a better place
if everyone were like me?
No, no…I don’t mean like you!
Not like you, but like me, me, me,
me, me, me, me…
What do me think?
But since you are like me, you are me
I don’t need to know what you think
Me no need to know what me thinks…
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 7:19 PM UTC
Skeletons In The Closet
In my closet I keep some bodies,
killing people is one of my hobbies.
I shoot people with my gun,
then sell their organs just for fun.
I skin their flesh and drain their blood,
my back yard is nothing but red mud.
Good thing my closet is extra wide,
it's the perfect place for them to hide.
I also enjoy golf and skiing,
I also take in a bit of sightseeing.
It helps me find people that don't matter,
then their brains, I like to splatter.
I fill my closet with plenty of bones,
a bunch of people, who were just unknowns.
No one even reports them missing,
sometimes their skulls I like kissing.
As I stalk my next victim,
I charm them with my words of wisdom.
I treat them like their my best friend,
if they only knew, it was all pretend.
I take them back to my place,
hoping I have enough closet space.
Then one night my house got raided,
my hopes and dreams suddenly became faded.
They locked me up and threw away the key,
fifty counts of ****** in the first degree.
My sentencing was for me to die,
above the prison, my skeleton hangs high.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
I'm freedom I'm pace I'm alone I'm grace I'm hardwork I'm no sleep I'm sightseeing while not leaving town I'm smiling I'm here I'm okay I'm great
You're trees you're wind you're old smells you're handholding you're just a minute late you're dads truck you're nameless you're a mystery right now you're everything i could never hate
Im on my way I'll find you soon I don't mind waiting for someone like you.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
**All aboard the Skylark, a cruise of mystery
it comes highly recommended, excursion starts at three
with a-tootle of the horn, sightseeing we set sail
on Summer days, around the bay, then back for scones and tea.
... ... ...**
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
Find constructed love
a piecemeal beauty
on those winding roads toward
Memphis
within rolling hills of
kudzu
the south, of red roads
black birds and white
in the swamp
a shock
cotton fields span
quiet, still the machines sleeping
the sun seeping
the car were in, **** covered
streaming
tall black and pastel along cars
friendly
I also saw a prison
carved in a hill side along a skinny
road, Mississippi
barb wire gem stone shine
white sign,
do not pick up hitch hikers
the humidity, heavy guilt
on dried clay
boiled peanuts
sightseeing in a
crime scene
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
The unscrupulous cavalry shuffled aboard narrow lanes,
Cutting in line towards Jager Bomb's tether,
Cluttered duffel bags concealing cheap champagnes,
Passing cruise ship commuter's ruffled feathers.
With their fake, "excuse me's" en route to the bar,
Coercing the conductor who's been under the weather
With smug smiles and counterfeit Cuban cigars.
Leaving the harbor three sheets to the wind
The cowards commandeered Grandparents pool chairs,
A little past midnight with no foresight of end,
An abrupt brawl broke out, fists flying through air.
A sightseeing whale trip turned into a ship from hell,
The assailants now held in a South of Wales cell.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 12:07 AM UTC
Blossoming jubilee
Petals trickle down their symphonies
Sharing gold-containing liquids of sweet nutrients
Fellow friendly winds carry their children across manmade architecture
Hugging onto hoodies and sightseeing before resigning into the soil
To patiently grow into personal structures
That will repeat the cycle of unified fields of family
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
So. Wanna go out for a pint?
That's what my dad says
Every time we board a plane
To England.
We do everything thoroughly.
Used to go every year, now
His pension only allows every
Other.
It's only right for him if he
Pays. I long since stopped arguing.
He gets tired from walking and
Sightseeing, but his eyes have that
Boyishness during it all that
Makes me believe in a God that
Rewards deserving old men with
Youth towards the end of old age.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
Man looked at his wife as they were passing the crowd in the airport. She was enthusiastically chatting and laughing with their friends. If it was not for her deep desperation to have a baby, and her frustration with all their unsuccessful attempts at it, he could swear she is the happiest woman in the world.
Their friends, , a young couple from their home country, were also on their way back home for a short visit.Initially, they were going to change their flights in the airport. Their next flight was delayed, however, and now they had to spend the night in the city. Their friends had decided to stay in the city a couple of days and attend a wedding. He knew that his wife wanted to go to the wedding too, but they were not invited.
They all shared a cab to a nearby hotel and casino. As they walked up to the reception desk, he grew more and more paranoid about giving their personal information and credit card to the receptionist. He pretended that they were looking for a jazz club in that area. His wife and their friends were puzzled but they did not say anything. As they were leaving the hotel, he realized that their friends needed to stay somewhere for a couple of nights and were willing to get a room and share. But it was too late: they said goodbye and separated.
The next morning the two of them decided to walk in the city and do some sightseeing. They soon found empty streets and a city that looked like it was hit by a disease. The man felt more and more uncomfortable and wish they had known where their friends had stayed. At noon, he suddenly remembered that they were supposed to take a morning flight. Surprisingly, he did not feel any urgency. He continued walking the empty streets but his wife went back to the hotel. At night, he was even more surprised to see that his wife was pregnant, almost nine month.
Next morning, the man went out alone. The city had become a war zone. Tanks and militants were roaming around everywhere. In a few instances, he had to escape some of them who were trying to arrest him, and even got into a fight. He went back home in the evening to find out that his wife had delivered the baby.
As he was watching his wife carrying the baby around and kissing the baby passionately, he suddenly realized what was going on. They were dead. That would explain all the strange things that had happened in the past couple of days. The man suddenly felt a deep comfort from solving the puzzle. He could almost feel an excitement, similar to that time, a few years back, when he accidentally hit a man on the street while driving and almost killed him.
Satisfied with his discovery, he looked up and watched his wife playing with the baby. What an irony, he thought. She looked so happy and peaceful. He could break the news to her later.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
Look how time flies so fast,
But my love for you will never last.
You will always be my greatest love
And you will always be the greatest thing that I have.
Always remember that I will always be by your side
To watch you while you're watching the other side of life.
To nurture your mind will always be my priority,
And you will always be my serendipity.
When you were being delivered in the delivery room,
It feels like I am sightseeing a thousand flowers that blooms.
You're a light in the dark
Of a small friction from our blood that sparked.
Try to forget our past in the future
And I will fulfill our moments in the present.
You are the most amazing creature,
And will forever be my nascent.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
Chanan closes his book.
His companion
has gone sightseeing.
The coffee is drunk.
The day is fine, the sky
a watery blue,
pale clouds drift.
He sits and meditates
on another coffee,
another cigarette,
watching passing crowds,
visitors and natives
of Dubrovnik.
He raises a finger,
a waiter nods,
goes off.
Chanan notices
across the way,
at another table,
a woman sitting,
hat red
at an angle,
slim fingers holding
a holder with cigarette,
the red lips,
the blue dress,
cleavage,
crossed legs,
red shoes.
He studies her,
takes in the hand
on knee, the hand
with holder,
the fine way
of inhaling
and exhaling,
the smoke drifting.
She leans back,
sky gazing,
in between drags
she sips her wine.
He takes in
the fine figure,
the turn of head,
the shoes of red.
He imagines her
(while his companion
is out seeking the sights)
coming to his room
at the hotel,
soft music playing,
lights down low,
wine bottle and glasses,
the usual patter,
the romantic air,
the twin bed waiting.
His coffee comes,
the waiter departs,
the woman stands
as a man approaches,
dark haired,
slim figured,
trimmed beard,
well dressed,
an air of affluence.
They go off
arm in arm,
she wiggling
her hot behind,
her red shoes,
tap-tapping.
Chanan stumps out
his cigarettes,
sips his coffee,
nothing ends
like it seems,
he is left
with an empty evening
and a lonely dream.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
You're always asking me if I'm okay
And I always keep my answers vague
two thumbs way up, I hide my face
eyes cemented shut, just another day
stumble down the stairway
eating out gourmet
don't need a lifejacket in a sea of cabernet,
(You okay?, Hey Rach?)
been a few days since I've had a taste
indentations in the blankets traced
so I sit around, I don't mind the wait
daydream until I leave this place
Always chasing sensations and feelings
sedation isn't quite the same as healing
so I head to the gas station freewheeling
fading and melting into silent sightseeing
You're so special, a wild flame meeting petrol
you don't love me, you love everyone
I'm accidental, not fundamental
so I watch it burn until it's overdone
You're explosive, and I'm corrosive
we probably shouldn't do this
but when has anything interesting
happened from doing what we should've
Skip through the lushest meadow
hope and pray I don't get stung
I tiptoe, I tiptoe
I'm afraid of bees and bugs
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
Looking towards the mountains,
In the ceaseless hike of living,
Is it us who's taking step,
Or are we self deceiving?
The raging winds in sorrowful snow,
And fear shaking beneath,
Are we feeling it all,
Or are we sightseeing?
The high mountain summit,
Where we look to feel alive,
Is it the sight that we need,
Or what lays underneath it?
To play upon our burden,
To act as if it's myth,
To make us be the things that
we don't see ourselves being.
We need to look deeper,
We need to reach further,
We need to embrace it,
we need it, to receive it.
Or if we just ignore it,
Cover it up with being,
We lose sight of our self,
and sight of our beginning.
Lets hope the lone hiker,
Looking towards the mountains,
Can reach the deepest heights,
And see what needs seeing;
And what there is to be seen,
Gives him a farther sight.
Lets hope he keeps seeing,
Lets hope he keeps reaching.
Apr 25, 2022
Apr 25, 2022 at 7:18 AM UTC
Thank You Mr. Barstow
For your beautifully narrated
Video of family camping
During the summers from 1957 to 1961
The five-member Barstow family
Of Wethersfield, Connecticut,
Set out to visit all 48
Of the then United States of America
On a series of month-long camping trips
They made sure
To go swimming in each of the Great Lakes
The family members
Positioned their bodies
So they would
Create the first letter
Of each lake
All the lakes looked so similar
They came up with this idea as a way to know
Which lake they were pictured in
Priceless
The son rolls up the back window
Of the station wagon
It reads, "Y'all Come
Sightseeing South
Summer - 1959
It is great to see an American family
Having so much fun
May God continue to bless the Barstow family
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
A garden filled with thorns,
Yet a rose, a special rose that has grown.
It stands above the rest,
Even in this wonderful flower bed.
She is the only rose that has no thorns,
A beautiful stem, clear, easily sown
Only beauty it has shown.
She was picked,
No bleeding, no *****
Carried upon with a gentle hand.
She was brought onto some distant lands,
Upon the paved path, oh what have they seen;
The sun is setting warmth and danger we feel.
The moon, not yet to arrive
Along the bushes we hide.
While seeking for the light,
The atmosphere cared so bright
A great sightseeing for the fireflies.
As we stare upon the vast sky,
They dance with colors as they fly
Smile upon your face will be my warmth of unforgettable
On how this cold night transverse beyond something loveable.
We have slept on the soft touch of the grass,
"Oh! few petals on this lass",
The sun shone brighter
As we get up, the journey wasn't over.
Across the lands,
Beyond this pass
We have encountered some wild packs.
They seem wild and tensed,
A few caress you have lent
They weren't ferocious nor tenacious
They looked so adorable and precious.
A wolf became a friend,
Where your heart began to mend
He followed your tracks,
He lead off to a good path.
He cared for you on how much you cared for him,
Never his eyes became too dim
We may not reach the end,
We have walked as we can.
Made possibilities and room for chances,
Chances that will give you a good ending.
But as soon we have stepped there is a better leading
The journey along the way, ain't it
Easy and susceptible?
We may find answers what is desirable.
You have been a rose, a beautiful rose I have ever met.
Your every petal is a special one to be kept.
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 1:00 PM UTC