"stunning" poems
I know you love it,
I can feel your vibe.
you don't just see me,
you see my other side.
I saw you looking;
how you stared for a while,
noticing you smiling,
when I caught you,
for the second time.
must of been those stunning eyes
or that curious smile, you caught my eye
Wanted you closer as the seconds went by
instead of just flirting, I wanted to be by your side.
eyes feeling on each - locked out the world
left each other stuck inside.
I saw you notice me,
and I noticed for a while.
As I looked on, I noticed your style.
And now I'm feeling you, lovin your vibe.
noticed your eyes feeling, watching me move
like a movie --- we should roll, and chill
then take a ride
Close your eyes, and
let me climbs inside.
Touch your soul,
while I ease your mind,
rock your body,
sooth it with mine.
giving you the real me,
until you are addicted to that natural high.
Don't rush a think,
lets just take our time.
Relax, baby just enjoy the ride.
Coming into my world, while I dip inside.
give me the best of you like its already mine.
Introduce your Highness to her new shrine.
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
The distant park
Was a graveyard of dead stars.
Each streetlight a system of worlds,
So many lives between each mote of light,
Indistinguishable in their unique love,
Bespoke hate, and the drama of the modern age.
Drunk laughter behind transparent
Double doors. Another hotel balcony,
Another cloud behind the canopy
Of marijuana eyes
To unsettle me from the crowd.
She points out, when you look closely
You can see the disorder
Amongst all constellations
Of life and love and litter;
Of discarded Coke cans
And temporary highs.
She says this is not a scene
To imbue the ****** of a present mind,
More to baulk at the incompletion
Of one thousand to-do lists;
A million reasons why
You should just stay inside.
She says you can see the human swell
Of ignorance, our city lights
Blotting out the stars
In a black ocean of broken politic
And irretrievable fault lines-
Divisions between us all.
Lives twisted with professional smiles
And eyes lit with stunning indifference.
Still, I have felt charity and warmth
On the doorstep of lunatics and fascists.
I have read the love of life
In faces of those who gave up.
I have recounted countless artists
Who saw beauty
In moments that precisely lacked it.
I have spent too many nights
In anaesthesia,
Fleeing each instance of feeling
And terror; all the tremors
That tell me I am still alive.
Continued to stare at the lights
Long after her voice
And the laughter inside had gone.
Heard waves in the traffic.
A world so large, so expansive,
It can never truly sleep.
Every broken heart,
Every war-torn land,
Every promotion,
Every one-night stand.
I wonder what would happen
If we all stood still.
If we all took one moment
To observe the motion
That unfolds beneath
Our static windowsill.
If we all took one moment
To recover our loss.
The wars that we won,
The feelings, forgot.
The hell we retain;
Our paradise, lost.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
*I stand at the feet
of this stunning sunset,
The sparks in my eyes,
light each star.*
***Rhythm of each twinkle,
synced with that of my own.
Strong and sure,
albeit few and far.***
*Nameless wind brings to me,
stories of silky clouds
I pull your smile deep in my heart
and finally can breathe.*
***Familiar words
without cloaks nor shrouds.
Just words...
Yours and mine to reveal what
our hearts would unsheathe.***
*What day is this?
Perfect to find
the rebirth of
freshly dewed dreams.*
***It isn't yesterday
nor is it tomorrow
It's today...
Where the sun would see us
weave our tapestries
through promise-bound seams.***
*I feel deep in my heart,
a fluttery stirring,
A hope,
a strength to reach out to you.*
***This hope you speak of...
Tethered by no thread or string
Mending my universe
and making it new.
So now I stand
at the end of this set...
Seeking the beacon
that I had known.
I'd again brave through this day
tomorrow...
Just so that I could hear your heart
that beats with my own...***
Dajena M
ryn
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
You used to tell me that beautiful things come from pain and adversity.
Like motherhood, unconditional love, and true stories.
As I stood in the middle of a room painted white,
Staring at the remains of rolling hills burned to black,
I saw you staring back at me.
Burnt fields like black panther fur
Shining against your bones
Velvet black
You’ve changed
And changed and changed
Yet your love still remains
Burnt fields like black panther fur
Whiskers are the needles on a compass
Always pointing to the azure sky
You used to sing when I cried
Rolling your r’s over rrolling hills
A haunting melody startling black birds into the night
Feathered constellations against a sliver moon
And lips pressed to my salty cheeks
You told me that your favorite skin tone was chocolate,
As you laid out in the sun hoping to melt. “A quarter black” is what you say when you want to feel proud,
Even as you tell me stories of how your mother was called negrita,
The girl who stood too dark amongst the crowd.
Burnt fields like black panther fur
Black like the broken wings of mothers before you
Who had hands with scars from cotton seeds
And blue veins like uprooted trees
Stretching all the way to their tired knees
Burnt fields like black panther fur
You criticize your aging beauty
Speaking in envy of the color gold
Like you are a broken bowl in need of kintsugi
Yet silver snakes still slither
Over the pebbled river beds of your black curls
Dripping down the small of your back
Until they reach the base of your ivory spine
Burnt fields like black panther fur
You criticize your aging beauty
Because you never thought
Cocoa lips and sun spots painted on sculpted clay that never cracks
Could ever look as stunning as it does on you
You told me that it is better to speak my truth then tell pretty lies.
So I told you mine and you cried,
And cried and cried.
But look where we are now,
Standing beside each other with the same eyes,
Just different reflections.
Burnt fields like black panther fur
Tongue like a sword set ablaze
Tempered in pools of milk and honey
Blood red sun grazing the tops of your eyelids
Still reminiscent of those in old photographs
Where you saw the little girl you search for in me
Burnt fields like black panther fur
I am sorry I made you cry
But even when our backs are turned
We are still
Black birds singing in the dead of night
Free
Thank you mama for my broken wings.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
Do You Ever Find … ?
That Words Sometimes …
KEEP On … " Runnin' " …
Through Your Mind … ?!?
Sometimes ...
My Rhymes And Words Are …
...... STUNNING ….. !!!!!
These Days I Find My Word Designs …
Refine And Dine Just Like FINE Wine … !!!
So Here's A Few To Give You … " Clues " ...
of Some of The Ways My Wordplay Moves …
Wordplay … ?
Just … RIDICULOUS … !!!
Volume … ?
Straight Up … INFINITE … !!!
Inception Is … " Synonymous " …
With BIG VIRGE The … EPONYMOUS … !!!!!
Conception …
NOT …. " Inglorious " …. !!!!!
******* NOPE … ERRONEOUS … !!!!!
My Use of Verse Is … " GLORIOUS " … !!!!!
In Fact It's … " MERITORIOUS " . !!!!!!!
Because It's TIGHT NOT Porous ….
Chorus … NO … !!!
Because It Flows …
And Has NO PLACE In …
... " Talent Shows " … !!!!!
TALENT ... ???
Whoooooaaaaa You'd Better KNOW … !!!!!
What I Construct May One Day BLOW … !!!
A Hole In ALL These Shows For … " Ho's " … !!!!!
Prostitution …. NO …. !!!
NOT How I Roll … !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Talking of THOSE …
NO TIME For Coc’ … !!!
Or Yes … ******* … !!!
Because My Nose ...
Does NOT House Notes … !!!!!
Where AIR Should Flow … !!!!!
FLOWS … ?!?
I Got …Those … !!!
QUOTES That Rock Boats … !!!
Races Places So Many Faces …
Sometimes My Mind ...
DEFINES … INVASIVE …
WAIT ..................................................................... !!!
I'm Just PLAYING And Relaying ...
Words of Verse …
From The Thoughts of …
….. " Big Virge " ….. !!!
My Head … ???
It HURTS ... Just Like My Arm … !!!
Because I Write …
Like Those Who Fight …
And Wear The Garms' …
of Those Who Choose To ...
YES … " Bear Arms " … ?!?
Violent … NAH … !?!
Big Virge Is …
….. Calm ….............................................................
I'd Rather Charm …
But PLEASE BE SMART … !!!
Before My Words …
Get In Your ... " CLAAT " … !!!
Or Your …... " RASSHOLE' " ….. !!!
Am I Bajan … ???
NO ... But Here's The Quote …
I'm … ENGLISH Born …
So Know of Their Scorn … !!!!!
But Am Now REBORN … !!!
With … CARIBBEAN Views …
Just Down The Road …
From My NEW Bedroom … !!!!!
On BAJAN' Shores …. !!!
NOT Cold But WARM … !!!
I'm HAPPIER NOW … !!!
That I Have FOUND …
A Place For Myself …
On My Parents' Ground … !!!!!
Africa Next … ?
Well … More or Less …
So MUCH of This WORLD … !!!!!
I Haven't Seen … YET … ?!?
Girls … ?!?!?
That's Where This Poem ENDS.
SO MANY Look FINE But I Just Can't find …
One Whose Down To … " Fool Around " … !!!!!
With The Man … Big Virge ...
... " The Connoisseur of Spoken Words " ...
I Guess That's Why … ?
I Write These Rhymes …
And Put In Verse …
Words That … " Traverse " …
That I NOW FIND …
" Run Through My Mind " …..
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
every time he look at me
or looked me in the eye
i felt my insecurities screaming
i wanted him to look away
but then again i did not .
i felt him looking at my nose,
oh its painful for me to even right that .
but the thing is every day he would tell me that i looked stunning that day .
he told me i was beautiful every day .
he told me that i was perfect .
for once in my life it felt as if all my insecurities went away
but no matter how many times he will call me beautiful, gorgeous, stunning and perfect ,
my insecurities will forever stay
and no matter how many people call me pretty or beautiful ,
**** how i will remember all of them that called me ugly and pointed out my insecurities as well .
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Oh black negus. Why do you hate me so much?
Noticed I called you by your rightful title.
Negus
King, Ruler, Emperor
Not ***** or ******
The derogatory term originating from the crackers, or ***** the mild disparagement softened by society made to think that it's acceptable.
But anyway let's get back to it.
Why do you hate me?
Is it because of my full lips or my round hips?
My low tolerance for ********
The way that my stretch marks are engraved in my skin?
Or how the roots of my hair aren't so thin.
Is it my naturally sun kissed skin? Even toned complexion?
It just can't be my uncanny resemblance to Isis the Egyptian Goddess!
So why not praise me for my natural features
Why go on one knee for their paid for enhancements
Should I react like Angela Basset in Waiting to Exhale?
Screaming and shouting while my face is growing pale.
But pardon my melanin
I was perplexed by this darkness that stared at me in the mirror
That stared at me looking in my lovers eyes and taunted me
Smiles behind hidden hate they constantly berate my beauty
But pardon my melanin
My superiority is in my melanin
Encased in my skeleton
Our ancestors wouldn't like this
They would not be proud of that colorism that exist
They slander us for our features yet they list after it
This systematic thinking has our men slandering us but they won't admit
You continue to beat me down yet I am your mother.
I am the fruit of this nation.
But pardon my melanin
So I'll ask again
Why do you hate me?
We are carved in the same beauty and without each other we can't exist
I still remember the first day that we kissed but a few months later you left me for hailey in an unfortunate bliss
Melanin filled girls I am here to say
You are a queen never be afraid to be seen
The brother that disrespect and degrade are absolutely absurd!
You are not ratchet bitter or mean
Youre a stunning melanin queen
So pardon my melanin?
Naw enlightened by me melanin.
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
I will forever remember
Those beautiful deep brown eyes
That you thought were so plain.
But darling, you could not see:
how could you possibly see?
The way they shined in the sun
breathtaking hues of mahogany
Melting into golden rays
Circling an eclipse
your “plain brown eyes”
truly aren’t plain at all
they are a stunning mixture
of every color known to man
The most beautiful sunset on earth.
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 12:16 PM UTC
Five separate entities
Whose lives seem to intertwine with stunning similarities
A brown thin thorn
As sharp as a knife
That hurt everything its comes into contact with
But seems to beg for forgiveness from its victims
A rose with petals so bright
Shining their color into the world
That screams for attention
Yet seems to hide from plain sight
A long thin stem
As weak as a piece of paper
That somehow holds up the great rose
But seems to strengthen with each wind blow
A bright green fuzzy leaf
Feeble and soft
That cries for attention from the rose
Yet seems to fade into the background
A single flower root
Dark Brown and thin as a piece of string
That reaches into the earth grasping for a stronghold
Yet seems to fail in comparison to the large, strong roots
A yellow and black bumblebee buzzing along
Happy-go-lucky and unaware of the looming storm
That longs to pollenate the rose
Yet seems to die more with each passing moment
Five separate entities
Whose lives seem to intertwine with stunning similarities
Yet grave differences
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
Tonight I hugged an angel
And it made my night
As she looked me in the eyes
And held me real tight
I sang to her a song
And I saw her dance
As her stunning beauty
Had me in a trance
Tonight I met an angel
And she made me so happy
Tonight I was in heaven
Because she talked to me
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 8:24 AM UTC
Your physique is stunning but what's within those walls is pure gold
I want to touch every inch of the thoughts that lead to those feelings of yours
Let my words ****** your fears until they finally give in
I'll massage every one of your tears until they open the doors
Don't try to lock me out for this temptation I can no longer hold
Push away your happiness facade, I want to reach your inner core
Allow me to kiss every bruise inside your long darkened soul
Let our words interwine and your dreams unfold
You've inspired me to aspire
Let me make love to your mind..
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
A dazzling sough,
The wind blows through, across the stunning white clouds, to Earth,
A dearness of the whistling, carrying a, warm breeze makes it worth
Worth but to say nothing less than; praise the new coming day!
Rustling the leafs, shaking them, letting them dance, then sway,
The wind is a transient traveler, rushing through this worldly life,
Gathering clouds together, a delicate drizzle is what they strive for,
Distorting, carrying, leading them towards the ground, wettening them in a scenery of a wonderous sight, fertilising the soil more,
Howling in a showering yet intimitating sense of the changing scene,
Blowing over each drop of pure water on the green coloured grass,
Spring is truly a season where dreams can sore,
It gives us the idea of something greater, something more,
Coming with ups, then downs, it gets carried away by the wind,
Until finally, the sunny days of summer are to come,
Sit down with me, listen to the sighing of the wind, don't be lonesome
By the sound it makes, the gentle song which blows through our ears
Can you hear it whispering ?
~ Umi
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
The only proper way to be a conversationalist is to convince yourself that you’re boring. If you can strip back the hard shell of the ego, and look down on yourself from the eyes of an apathetic God, you will likely (and hopefully) see just how boring you really are. It isn’t a sin to be boring, in fact there are many advantages to honest self-depreciation.
The main advantage, is the way you approach a conversation. “Interesting” people find it difficult to silence the affected score-keeper that dominates their internal dialogue and ruins any chance of an honest and engaged conversation. It is the voice that reminds you to show interest with your body language, and keep a dumb happy gaze laser pointed into their eyes. This dialogue is obsessed with authenticity and genuine conversation, and therefore a natural sociopath.
Luckily, you are the stunning definition of boredom, an extracted dictionary cut-out of un-interesting, and nobody could possibly give a rats-ass what you have to think—least of all the Voice that controls the inner-dialogue. That Voice has packed it up to find a more interesting vessel…maybe the person standing across from you in conversation.
Because you are so boring, and they are the Oxford personification of intellect and fascination, you should pay careful attention to what they say—no time to worry about how they’re perceiving your reaction to whatever it is they’re saying. You are too busy to notice what sort of body language you may or may not be using to validate their half of the conversation. Instead, your time is spent carefully hanging on their every word, digesting it and projecting the whole bit into a colourful scene in your imagination. Instead, you’re too lost in the excitement of their infinitely more interesting life and impossible wealth of knowledge offered to you with each word that they speak. Instead, you are actually listening to the words that come out of their mouth and not the ones that speak to you from the inside of your own mind.
This is what it means to be in conversation. This was the point of our social nature. And in a world of needy social-media junkies grabbing at the cuffs of potential ‘followers’ and ‘likes’ and trendy passer-by’s, the last thing anyone needs is the high-pitched whine of another “interesting” millennial.
Lucky for you, you boring sack of yawning sloths, that you aren’t interesting too.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
Beauty vs beast
The petals of the rose
Draw all the attention away from the thorns
It is fascinating how a single flower can be so beautiful
Yet contain a hint of ugliness in it to
Just like the peacock
Which has a million stunning feathers on its tail
Drawing attention away from its feet
It saddens the peacock itself
When it compares its beauty to the deformity it contains
Nothing is perfect in this world
Dont expect it to be
If these beautiful creations contain imperfection
Remember somewhere we are also flawed
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
My sweetheart you are so stunning and seductive
With a lovely attitude, to come and get me please
Your progressive style makes you more reflective
Embrace me come in my warm arms don not tease
Sky is under your feet and you have taken me over
Wind is playfully caressing your cheeks, curly hair
Your eye brows are archer this is what your armor
What a tasteful youth what a wonderful spicy flair
My love,life is at stake my love is now on the altar
Your graces can save me from the clutches of world
My life is like a ship without any rudder and harbor
In front of universal love your beauty is just curled
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 1:57 AM UTC
Don't push them
You're moulding them instead of letting them flow
You're stunning their movement, you're not letting them grow
I like being pushed
I am superior and better than my peers
They've taken over my body and they are the ones who steer
Is this wrong?
Is this right?
Is this my desired flight
The Devils are pitched on both shoulders
I can't take over until I've grown older
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 6:25 AM UTC
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow,
Whinnying, frolicking, as happy as can be,
As I hover high above, observing all below.
Such stunning beauty, makes my heart glow,
Mythical creatures, running wild and free,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow.
They are seeds of dreams, we lovingly sow,
Rearing in acknowledgement, just for me,
As I hover high above, observing all below.
They begin racing clouds, perhaps for show,
Maybe I am a dream, one only they can see,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow.
Amongst trillions of stars, one must know,
Unicorns live and play, with unbridled glee,
As I hover high above, observing all below.
Through layers of cloud, drifting so slow,
To unlock sheer bliss, I now possess the key,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow,
As I hover high above, observing all below.
©Paul M Chafer 2014
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
My eyes watch
as the sky
is painted with colors of
soft blues & white fluffs
to
vivid pinks & dazzling oranges.
Soon to be
pitch blacks & deep violets
with tiny bright lights
speckled on with flicks of His brush.
Soon to be tomorrow,
strokes of
happy yellows & stunning golds.
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 6:28 PM UTC
When you touch me, I do not stand near the faint window, but I open all the bright doors, the doors of a very strong and very shapeless breeze. O Ramadan; the rain of touches that reach every story in my weak body and every region in my soul. Your touch is a soft candle, yes your touch is a new white flower. When you smile at me, I do not wait behind the absent window, but I see the true doors, the doors of endless time and unlimited place. Oh Ramadan, you can imagine my very intense and very shapeless happiness. When your soft whispers flow deep in me, I will never be near the salty window, but I will be immersed in warm doors , the doors of swimming in a stunning river, disappearing in a very strong and very shapeless sea. O Ramadan, let your lantern to touch my cheeks and draw a beautiful spring on my eyes. Let fasting immortalizes my body out of the water that will gone, and the food that will perish. Let my body know its true existence, and let me see my real body without food or drink. O Ramadan, allow your lantern to shine in my depth and to color my soul with unforgettable chants.
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 2:48 AM UTC
*An upscale lounge well known,
For its ambiance and specialty cocktail,
Which includes live entertainment dancers,
On stage, in fine detail.
While a glamorous female stood in front of the bar,
With a deep sea blue martini, in her right hand,
In an ice cold oversized snifter, dipped in sugar upon the rim,
Where she leisurely stands.
With a pink orchid,
And blue twisted glow stick, placed inside her drink,
Taking rhythmical steps,
Side by side, in sync.
Dressed in a strapless dress, slightly above her knee,
Nicely fitted, in shades of purple, green and teal,
Displaying a genuine soft look,
With such great appeal.
When a young man walked in,
And gazed into her seductive dark brown eyes,
Reaching out his hand,
Asking her to dance, as he passed by.
She was absolutely stunning,
With fair complexion, short black hair, a beautiful silhouette,
And a radiant smile, reliving her early days,
An unbelievable night, quite difficult to forget.
She appeared divine,
Upon the dance floor, mainly surrounded by youth,
Dancing salsa throughout the night,
And mixed melodies, near the DJ booth.*
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 3:36 AM UTC
I remember you
from your beautiful smile
your cinnamon scented hair
your contagious laughter
your nail-biting addiction
your pointless insecurities
to our silly inside jokes
our dumb little fights
our peculiar bets
our goofy text messages
through tears and smiles
you were the only one who understood
my unspoken words
my concealed pain
my unexpressed happiness
my puzzled feelings
counting your days
we recalled our mischievous memories
when we danced in the rain
when we rang doorbells and ran away
when we pranked the gullible ones
when we stole Ikea pencils
when we fangirled over stunning guys
when we were together
everything turn into excitements
moments with you
I remember them all, Grace
it was a week before December twenty-fifth
when the monstrous cells stopped your heart
a glimpse of smile
appeared upon your face
as you're being taken
far away from us
skin turned pale
body stiffened
tears flooded my sight
there were wailing across the room
time flies like a bullet train without you
it's a rainy day today
you've always loved rainy days
sinking my knees in the dew-wet grass
raindrops whisper in my ears
as I brush off the gray snow from your stone
I still remember you, Grace
I still do
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
Dear Best friend,
You know who you are. You are the beautiful girl in the back of the class, who keeps to herself, but is still strangely likable. You are the girl with the piercing blue eyes and dark, dark sense of humor.
Dear Best Friend,
I know you literally are always willing to listen, whether it is talking about our mutual crush on that guy in our favourite class, or complaining about society, or my parents, or when I just need to talk about the weather to distract myself from the looming fear of everything going wrong.
Dear Best Friend,
I still remember when you first told me about your depression. I had always sort of known, but hearing you say it out loud, I honestly didn’t know what to do, because I don’t want you to end up like me, I don’t want you to feel like you have to turn to sharp inanimate objects, I don’t want your world to be dark, hopeless, I don’t want you to fall because depression is a slippery slope, trust me. I don’t want you to forever be broken. I don’t want you to be scared.
I just don’t want you to end up as ****** up as me.
Dear Best Friend,
I know I’m not perfect, I’m not even close, and I ***** up... A lot. But I will do what ever I can to ALWAYS be there for you. I will always be the dorky, idiotic, annoying sidekick.
Dear Best Friend,
You are beautiful, don’t let anyone, ever tell you otherwise. Especially not some 12 year old boy with a stupid haircut.
You are short, there is no denying that, but so is Billie Joe Armstrong and we still think he is the hottest thing since wood stoves.
You have blue eyes, that I know you think are weird, but they are like oceans only not as dark.
Your hair is almost as straight as the members in half the bands we listen to, but each curl falls in it’s own special place
You are beautiful, stunning, breath-taking, and every other synonym for that word.
Dear Best Friend,
I’m sorry you have to put up with me when I am like this. I know I should just bottle it up, but for whatever reason it always seems like I can’t stop the words from escaping. I’m sorry, I am so so sorry that you have to deal with me.
Dear Best Friend,
I really want to smack you upside the face with a brick sometimes. But I won’t, because I am more scared of you hitting back than I am of doctors (and that’s saying something)
Dear Best Friend,
I promise that I will always be there as long as you need me, whether it’s in the middle of the night or when I am thousands of miles away with timezone barriers between us, just call me. When you are scared, call me. When what you are scared of is yourself, call me. When you need a friend, call me. When you want to gush about your new boyfriend, call me. When you want to just chat, call me.
Dear Best Friend,
At this point I think of you more like a sister that a friend.
So, Dear Sister, I love you so much. Thank you for showing me that even the darkest nights have a sunrise, and that those sunrises are always the most spectacular.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Don’t release your *******
Just release my single
I don’t think it’s stunning
When that thing is jingle
******* taste like Pepsi-Cola
******* taste like Marabou
See a ***** – I say hola
Eat that thing like caribou
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 5:59 AM UTC
On a summer morning,
Monkey had awoken early,
His eyes all sleepy,
And his hair wildly curly.
Swoosh,
He opened the door,
He had to use his mouth,
Because his tail was way too sore.
Slam,
Monkey shut the door behind him,
His friend Panda,
Was called hungry, hungry Jim.
Monkey was off to work,
His tail dragging on the floor,
He was sure to be back in time,
To feed his family of four.
Although monkey was guilty,
He missed work twice,
Monkey was confidently sure,
His boss would be all nice.
Monkey had walked to the glass,
It said no dogs allowed,
For sure he was a monkey,
He walked in and proudly bowed.
His boss said he had to leave,
For he was not a monkey,
But monkey had explained,
He was very chunky.
The boss escorted his out,
Angry as could be,
For sure he was a monkey,
Can’t his work boss see?
He decided to go food shopping,
At the nearest grocery store,
He wanted to get home quickly,
So his family wouldn’t be that poor.
Monkey walked to the grocery store,
His feet were aching,
It was 10 miles away,
This was a big risk that he was taking.
Monkey got there very fast,
Quick as in running,
It said only monkeys allowed,
Wow that sign was stunning!
Monkey had barged in,
All the monkeys were looking at him,
He was told to get out,
So then he visited his old friend,
Hungry, hungry Jim.
When monkey had arrived,
Jim had told him he was a dog,
So Monkey left ashamed,
In the new deep fog.
Monkey had decided to go home,
And Comfort his 3 young ones,
He’d see his wife,
Oh, he loved them all a ton.
Hungry, Hungry Jim smiled,
As if he was really, really bad,
He decided not to eat him today,
He saw him so sad.
Monkey’s house
Was just around the corner,
It was a pretty color white,
But most of the time,
There was not much light.
He had opened his house door,
So lonely and ashamed,
He was a monkey,
He had claimed.
Monkey flickered on the light,
Nobody was there,
His wife and kids left him a note,
“You are a dog, we could not bear”.
Monkey was so depressed now,
He walked to hungry, hungry Jim’s house
He had tiptoed in,
And was as quiet as a mouse.
Jim had caught him,
And asked why he was not home,
Monkey had explained,
His house is just a comb.
Monkey said his family had left him,
Because he was a dog,
They think I don’t belong,
And am just a plain old hog.
All of a sudden,
The panda ate him whole,
And the only thing that was left,
Was his sad little soul.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC