"supplement" poems
Behold Nigeria my motherland
A land that sits upon the hills of many waters
A country built on the ancient landmark of heroes band
An Eagle that protects her citizens in the arms of her feathers.
A beautiful Nigeria whose fields are as green as green could ever be
An Iroko that stands on the root of peace and unity
A fertile land that is as fertile as fertility can ever be
A united people, a proud nation void of segregation nor discrimination in her city.
My motherland a land that upholds the staff of dignity and natural endowment
A land of unity and peace glowing like a river of gold across the horizon
A nation that feeds on the diet of heavens supplement
An ocean that runs through the test of raging storms un-torn.
My motherland! My motherland!
A Nigeria that adores her women more highly than the Queen of England
An Olive that yields more than the cedars of Lebanon
A land whose daughters are as beautiful as the daughters of Job in Jerusalem's land
An independent country as powerful as the King Nebuchadnezar of Babylon.
It's Nigeria my motherland
A land that rests on the pillars of her freedom
A country seated on the pearls and treasures of many Ireland
A Nigeria that lives on the soil of heavens wisdom.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
Haply but Sweetly, Serene Volumes mix
And Summer's Fornication took its toll
Please don't React. I am not here to fix
Those very Clouds you hard-worked to install
My name is Supporter; Though it sounds strange
To write this Foreword which read too extreme
Trust me this fully; I am well within range
To lend you my Honest and Golden Ring
Indeed Family does matter; Much on Sport
An Athlete like you needs Supplement Prime
This I can assure: They Love you formore
Never to betray your Sensitive Time.
Much grateful am I to scribble this Verse
Now win your Medal; Let Nike converse.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
The black shawl-like quality
Of the nothingness
Wraps itself around everything.
A constant emptiness
That makes all full.
Its veins run blue
And gold and scarlet
And every hue between,
It dies as it arises.
The nothingness embraces all,
Easily, it encases me.
In everything and anything.
And that which I lack
I supplement with hope.
A chain mail lie linked
With fragile expectations
Of love and other drugs,
Other falsifications.
This tapestry holds whispers,
Secrets and blueprints
To all of creation.
Globes of dying light
That crash in the dark.
But alas I can see
Its stars are not cross'd
For me [cue tears],
I fear my script is lost.
Perhaps when the dopamine
Corrodes and rots my brain,
My soul will take the reins.
Connected to the cosmos
It tells me everything,
But yea, it shows me nothing
Except tantalising flashes
Of what could be,
In its swirls of red and azure.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 7:17 PM UTC
Teammates supplement for family
Black and white pentagons are the walls around me
Studded shoes fit snug as skin
Practices beg for offerings
We give them Blood
Wanting more, we give sweat
Arguments with my family bring tears
We fight for every moment
Our pulse pumping with the seconds on the scoreboard
The score is never important
All that matters is our sisterhood
We are one
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 10:50 PM UTC
Clayton
How I know you
Paternal parenting
DNA infused
Carbon contribution, to my physique
Father
In everything
My skin, eyes toes,
Unfortunately; inside my mouth
Spitting plaster-walled
Copy-paste personality
The same
Intimately
Close-dangerously
Different
Me a bold-faced fraction of ill abated love
Something that didn't work out
Photocopy
Blond-blasphemy of useless flesh
Reminder of her
Mom
Enough!
Teeter tottering
Tip-Toe tangling opinion
Excuses
Words fermented
Rotting-rigor
I know you.
Slit-eyed palefaced ****** of bigot ideas
Bearing pronged poker
Clicking glinting-clawed finger fondling fake religion
Suppressing supplement thought
********
God's love the good life
Living a life to be proud of
Excuse me!
For not being as I am "supposed" to be
Eatting rancid lies
Your reality relative
To kiss-ass preferred siblings
Who like the taste of ****
What you shovel
Hung on lipsucking harlot, hinged hip hung-over
Descending oppressidly upon willing wanton will of man
Letting cracked-cackled toothed
Field Gap-smile
Decide your next move
I know you
I see what you push into hidden corners
The bias, nasty film of your character
Under whitecollar shirttails
Citizen, Patriot
Americas American
I know you
Your oppression
Not new
As underhanded and seedy as it was
And still is
I know you
As much as I'd like not too.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
Cicadas whine metallically
In trees along the sweltered streets;
Wasps and hornets arc angrily
Enough to cause me fear.
Late summer’s not my favorite time of year.
Flowers nearly done;
The tulips, irises, and poppies
Long since seeded out;
They’ve had their fun.
Bedraggled day lilies remain,
This is the beginning of the mums.
Bees seek latent nectars
Or tap into their golden stores
To supplement their bumbling runs.
Lawns foist a burnt but stubborn edge
While only thistles still refuse
To bow to August's incessant heat;
Their spikes sprout poisonous defiance.
The dog’s left yellowed pools of dying grass;
I admit the neighbors’ lawns surpass.
I suppose the time to gather
Drying excrement’s returned, alas....
Keeping up appearances is hard at summer's end.
Ennui of season full and just past ripe
Leaves tired old men like me
A chiding cause to gripe.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
I secretly sat at your secluded spot on the lake
I languidly listened and watched the Sunset
writing this while I cease to worry
because I was wrong.
They were wrong when they pigeonholed
you in black and white as one toned ordinary
when you're really vivid shades of hazel
More than meets the eye & captivating
as many shades as in the Sunset
I've been watching from your spot.
Colour me interested because I want to see what hue we'd make mixed together
Yours would compliment and supplement mine
into a vibrant tone
brilliant enough to paint a whole canvas
with the full spectrum of our shades in our union.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC
Ask the Channel to his Promised Heart's Best
And Glad you shared his Spirit with your Song
Closer, then keep your Cherries fresh with Zest
So both can Savour each Flavours for long
How Fair you took his Living Supplement
Where these Vitamins need your Fresh Support
But Remind him; Of Minerals and Nourishment
Are what is Needed for his Best Report
Then the Grandfather whose Wise Hands will tell,
Strike the Gong to when their Wrapped Hands hold fast
But knowing his Flute which charms your Bell,
His Pickfold Numbers win your Lots at last.
Tally him Softly; And he makes you Proud
To harvest Best Fruits whilst singing out loud.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
The Brandon who was sure of a god is deceased,
But his memory is visible in my idealistic wish for one.
Who would not want a loving, personal god
Forgiving their wrongs and guiding them
Towards ever-lasting happiness?
Answer me..
No matter what you want,
In regard to matters of forgiveness and happiness,
You are on your own,
At least that's what I think.
I have to forgive myself,
Even if everyone else will refuse to do so.
Ugly and beautiful both describe me equally,
And these qualities apply to every
Other human being as well,
From the poor to the wealthy,
The atheist to the religious,
The prisoner to the police officer,
The terrorist to the president, and so on.
Failure to acknowledge this
Underscores moral supremacy,
And the over-simplification of humankind.
No war between Good and Evil is being waged,
And as far as happiness goes,
No man or woman can give it to you,
They can only supplement it.
It is not a plateau
To be permanently established,
It waxes and wanes like
The phases of the moon,
Tending to glow whenever you smile.
(c) 2013 Brandon Antonio Smith
9/20/13
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
Amadou awakened with a start, it was Omar one of the guardians(security guards) of Yaldagou (the largest Hospital in the capital of Burkina Faso) knocking on the window of his taxi, Amadou had just settled down for the night after a long day in the heat and fumes that was Ouagadougou it was just after midnight on Sunday, he struggled to wake up rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Omar explained in Mori(local language), that there were two white people in need of his special service.
After a quick explanation that someone had died in a private clinic nearby and the body needed to be transported to the morgue at Yaldagou, he snapped out of his sleepiness and thought for a moment how much he could charge the rich white people, it was two days after Eid and as a strict Muslim he had been celebrating the holidays and now he had been offered an opportunity to supplement his taxi income, someone had to do it and it was an unsavory job and anyway on the few occasions he had done it, it had been lucrative, it might as well be him!
Amadou thought to himself, if you had the misfortune to die in the day time there was a private service but in the night dignity went out the window and it was up to people like Amadou and a select bunch of taxi drivers with seats that could be configured to accommodate the corpses of the recently deceased to perform this service, so taxi 87 driven by Amadou would take this lady who had died from kidney and other ***** failures, after struggling for some days she eventually lost her battle and slipped into unconsciousness and finally died.
Amadou finally settled on 10000 CFA(local currency) a fair price, after all the so-called professionals would charge 30000 CFA three times more and it was around Eid "Allah Akbar".
A quick "Thank you" to Omar for helping them and the two white people left with him for the short journey to the clinic, after the usual discussions the body was released and transported to the morgue to join the other recently deceased waiting for burial in the morning,
Amadou, rearranged the seating in his taxi after parking up in his favourite place under the trees of Yaldago it was just after one thirty, a good ninety mins work he thought to himself, yawned, and settled down to sleep a few more hours before dawn prayers.
This was Africa and "someone had to do it" was his last thought.
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 7:26 PM UTC
In the Name of Allah the Magnificent the Beneficent, Allah you show me much of You're Gratitude, my prayer are never sufficent.
Allah my heart and soul pleads for Your Grace, my life has turned for the worse please have Mercy on my soul and all my sins erase.
Deep in the valley in the darkness of life, so difficult to find an exit that would lead me out of this strife.
I supplicate, my soul cries searching for guidance, so deep in this worldly life while crawly out of subsidence.
Reconciling and searching for the better things You offer, forgiveness in my vocal cord is stifled, my soul suffer.
Allah, Your Greatness is so sound Your Creation is so perfect in Your way, my Lord hear my prayer don't let me go astray.
The rain You bring upon us fulfills the rich supplement of life for mandkind, the lost gratitude and praises we leave so behind.
Forgive me Allah of my pass and coming sins, I beg for Your Compassion from now and till my new life begins.
Cleans my heart and soul, with Your Heavenly Grace make me as white as snow, forgiveness is the best that I know.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 2:00 AM UTC
my heart is a machine
behind every good
heart
there is an even better
machine
waiting to take over
impulse
beat- in out in out- beat
who needs
feelings
{ the constant struggle of having to
repair the break
crashlagslow hurt
-reboot- (Call tech support!)
temporary no sure fix
repeat }
behind every good
heart
is an even better
machine
waiting to mechanize
bastardize
supplement
LOVE
abiotic, anaerobic, clean, pure, simple, sterile
who needs
LOVE
when metal & pistons
are so much easier to
understand
predict
replace/fix ?
If they can engineer esters to
smelllooktaste
like anything on earth
why the **** can’t that make something
taste
{like your lips}
smell
{like your skin; cigarette sweet with an undertone of work sweat}
feel
{like your too rough kisses and embraces}
because maybe if they did
it might make it easier, maybe I wouldn’t miss you
so ******* much
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
i'll admit it
i'm just trying to score some prozac;
something to supplement the steroids
that never seemed to ease the pain.
my body never
tolerated
anything they gave me:
all their alcohol distraction,
all their **** carelessness,
all their acid lifestyle,
none of it.
as for ecstasy,
i never got the dosage right:
i've been offered ersatz masterpieces
and turned them all down,
so they sacrificed their snatches to other gods,
who happily and hungrily partook in the
appetizing, dangerous bounty for which there is no cure.
i was once appeased for my lust
and committed love crimes,
so i learned not take ecstasy
until i tried the steroids.
i'll admit it
i'm just a pair of eyes
in a white ocean
May 3, 2011
May 3, 2011 at 1:46 PM UTC
You've done it again! Time and again
First hook and then reel
Then hurt and release
Lay the blame squarely on me
You take me for a fool
A gullible idiot!
Who'll swallow your lies
And buy your story each time
I am not part of your life anymore
but I need to get on with mine
So be sure to burn the bridges
Cause I am not turning back anytime.
You will always do what it takes
To hold my heart ransom
Cause that's such a causal approach
It doesn't take much to strategize
I struggled each day and night
To swallow my pain and get on
But depression sunk its deadly hooks
My flesh was skinned and bare
My groaning heard none
Cause outwardly I appeared just fine.
But you conveniently forgot what u had done
And walked back without a care
For a doormat you take me
So can you step on my despair
You think I am waiting around
For you to do the same things again
Forgive you, for your wrongs and
get back from where we left?
Change your thinking!
Cause that's never gonna happen
I have forgiven, but forgotten not
I cannot forget or let go
For your lessons are deeply entrenched
And well learn't
One that has a lasting impression
My mind wont let it go.
Subconsciously I know your capacity
to hurt me time and again
Cause you feed on my feelings
To supplement the ones you lack
Grow up, own up, about time u realized.
You can't play me and think its fine!
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
The river runs it runs with greed
The fast cash of the lucky
Makes it's way to sea
And poison floats with this poison greed
The will of millions, cry out silently
Because they have no idea
about this poison greed
Nurotoxicity
Poisoning our cities
The doctor tells the single mother
To eat an apple everyday
Which only supplement her daily
Methlyphenidate
Neurotoxicity
And baby was born just few pounds light
The tired mother relieved
Baby swaddled in a sheet
Of polybrominate
Neurotoxicty
But all ends were it began
The conspirers of greed
Don't have to loose a thing
The toxic poisonous sludge doesn't run through their garden greens
Somethings
Fish-y
Or is it all the mercury?
East of the railroad tracks
The man smoking crack
Behind a tree
Now breathing PCB's
From car exhaust and factory
Poor ****** breathes
Neuroxicity
And the lucky on lookers equipped to
Notice such a thing or anything
Watch in disbelief
They should all find relief, the poison is fair
It flows through everybody, everywhere
For nothing makes the people sing
Like a mix ethanol and manganese
Neurotoxicty
Spin round and round and sing
This is called brainwashing
Drink your mix of ethanol and manganese
Watch your team throw the polyethylene
Trickle down, trickle
Your loosing the cells right from your brain
While a doctor writes you a prescription to go insane
After years of manganese and PCB's
Jimmy B is lost in the sea of toxins
But mom knows best
He's a hyper brat
Takes him to the doctor to get him
Correct
Doctor gives Jimmy a prescription
The devil's speed
Dextroamphetamine
Jimmy was focused
Jimmy didn't bother
Jimmys brain a couple grams lighter
The doctor intrigued gets a free meal
To switch Jimmy's speed
Four more Jimmies
Doctor can vacation expenses paid
By the sea
Jimmy keeps on taking his pills
Then over night
Jimmy hits his first pipe
Now that's some ******* good speed
And the story goes
Without relief
The government we know
Deligates neurological slavery
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
[Las Meninas, Oil on Canvas, 1656, Prado, Madrid]
I am the first proud pronoun I
against the fear of my invisibility
each morning rising from
minor nobility like my parents
(no son of a converso – lies –)
into the light of mastery;
now as a Knight of Santiago
- the king himself painted the cross
you see in Las Meninas -
nobilitas is in the faces
royal with ancient lines
(you understand I did not
trade
am Moorish of Seville
and Portugal).
Not from the mind but back
into its expectation.
I see the work reflected
into the lens of sense
to supplement the work into the real
express itself by what
a slavish love of detail cannot supply
it was the power
to give them what they did not see
the scorn in lips
from ****** generations
bought by my brush
among them into monarchic trade
and what they thought as glory,
dwarves and all larger than life.
that painted me so high
those royal portraits by the score
keyed to the colour of fame
silvered and golden
mine.
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 7:11 AM UTC
Were we not once love stood in abbey shadow and sun,
were we not once lovers at the top of bowling alleys
holding, having fun?
As you showered, I
bathed in the oeuvre of your
aura opposite,
thought of
midnight scrambled eggs
then bed
and the coffee to keep it company.
It’s then we woke
to the Sunday cacophony of avocados on post,
head to the second supplement in
to learn of the best twelve coasts where good lovers go to live,
where good lovers go to hide and give,
where good love exists.
If only the car wasn’t broken:
second hand, forecourt pile of ****
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
1.5 grams of marijuana, 30 mL of cough syrup, half a bowl of cereal, and an iron supplement.
Then I throw up blood into a toilet, shave, and put on a pair of flip flops.
I don't bother changing pants, so I just grab a different shirt, throw on some deodorant, and smoke another joint.
I get in the car.
I take a deep, shaky breath.
And drive away.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
It's a bad day when you can't get Celene Dion out of your head
Titanic was good
It was not that good
I found a dried flower
Buried in Leviticus of my sort of grandma's bible
She must have liked that part
The only quote about Leviticus I've read on the internet is about stoning gay people
I hope she didn't like it that much
I saw a bagel get made
No one has the job of eating the middles out
I'm 23, this was a let down
I still like bagels a lot
I tacked the dry flower on my wall
Above the reminder that it's $3 a day to swim at the public pool in the mornings
I hope it's not a homophobic flower
I hid the bible behind Lauren Conrad's book
Lauren Conrad's book embarrasses me less
My sort of grandma
Is only sort of alive
I often feel that way
I feel most alive while dreaming of the impossible
Realistic dreams lead to disappointment
Outlandish dreams leave little 'remember when’s’'
No one hates themselves for not becoming an astronaut
A lot of people hate themselves for not losing 20lbs
Friendships are often measured in favors
That is all
That was not all
Favors are measured in sacrifices
Favors are not measured in reward
Today is a reflection of not dying yesterday
There is a one in seven chance that today is Friday
And it is imperative that we get down on Friday
Because the anticipation for this weekend is very high
If today is Monday all of that is no longer relevant to our conversation
I am losing weight
As I lose weight more and more fat girls hit on me
I do not like this as much as what I was imagining would happen
I have learned that being funny **** cool
Like I am becoming
Does not mean hot girls will hit on me
It means they will actually think about it before saying no
To supplement my soon to be chiseled physic
I am learning a Jack Johnson song on guitar
This worked for an acquaintance in 2006
Maybe I should learn Colbie Callait instead
The world would be better if schools had better teachers
The world would also be better if high school seniors paid attention to the teachers they already have
I don't know which one is easier to fix
My past seems rosier than my future
Except in the case of February 16th 2007
And now February 16th 2012
Corner buildings and modern light fixtures are my favorite aesthetics
My favorite building has neither of those features
Those features are not that awesome
Dead flowers smell like dead things
To combat this I spray cologne on my grandma's flower
I have never been to a funeral
I wonder if they febreeze the dead people
Or maybe they use Chanel No. 5
This is something I would like to learn more about
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 3:38 AM UTC
*So we often look for a love that will supplement us.
Don't!
I hope you find a love that complements you.
Adores you.
Respects you.
I hope you grow to realise that only Jesus Christ can supplement us.
He will complete us and make us whole.
So I hope you find a love that complements you.
Complements every bit and part of the imperfect you.*
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 12:40 AM UTC
Help yourselves dear poets
if you have fever use filtered martinelly apple juice or any brand you got dilude it with water a glass every hour
it has boron it heals cutting fevers fast I used in my children tylenol can harm liver.
~~~~~~
for the stronger health users go
organic carrot and (beat juice-
-optional) if you only want water distiled is best one gallon add 20 drops of oregano leaf oil
and only drink this is antiviral.
fir one day or two
~~~~~~
If you tolerate take on raw garlic two or more Clove's blend them in filtered, or boiled or distilled water or even Gatorade electrolyte or smart water
add cayenne pepper or any hot peppers you have like cayenne it's good for heart
( no halapeños they irritate intestinal lining ) add sea salt to taste cilantro if you have add two yellow lemon juices freshly squeezed one hole mandarine or small organic orange
add ginger root fresh a finger size slice
add turmeric fresh root
you have apple cider vinegar with the mother in
add some one tablespoon
optional
add multivitamin mineral
and vitamin C ascorvic acid
8f no lemon available.
if you feel anxiety check thyroid it controls brain chemicals add a thyroid supplement vitamin to shake open capsule and blend all these and drink five onces
every 3 hours.
it's anti virulent immune system booster
200 mg of vitamin B complex nightly in powder form will stop your restless leg syndroms help nerves and good sleep add but D3
If you dear find milk thistle it heals detox liver tastes great open one or two capsules in glass of water I drink this daily.
~~~~~
Stay blessed all poets visitors friends you are much loved.
by Karijinbba
Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020 at 4:32 PM UTC
I once sold a hair straightener to a woman going through keemo
I once sold a a weight loss supplement to a girl struggling with anoerexia.
I once sold female libido enhancers to a forty year old man.
Sold a car to a Parapalegic
Sold a telephone to a deff woman.
I once sold a child an imaginary friend.
And a Vaccuum for their sandbox.
I once sold a soul to a telemarketing company.
They paid me in biweekly installments.
And they got a hell of a deal.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 1:05 AM UTC
she doesn't like her eggs like that!
she steals the spatula from dad's hand and slices open the yolk dad had preserved
I hear my name being called from inside the kitchen every three and a half minutes
briana don't forget
briana you have to do this
take us to the airport tomorrow morning
we have to leave by 8:30 am
dad what do I do about my car
take it back he says
and he yells at me
and that's how I know I am home
so I disappear into my room to light up a joint I've been saving
he gets a question right on jeopardy
two commercial breaks later he tells me a story
about bejing
and that's how he knew the answer to that question
and I said okay
and he said isn't that weird that I can remember that
and I looked away and thought
no, because you have aspergers
honey, don't forget to take your digestive supplement
okay mom
ok
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 8:51 PM UTC
I'm nervously staring at a blank page
I can not concentrate
Why can I not explain how deranged
These thoughts will range before I engage with another
Leaving everything getting to me beneath the surface
While asking after others
Internal whispers hint on my actions
Each infraction gains traction
As I fail to supplement the latter with a fraction of a rebuttle
All the while huddling in a corner and never subtle
Like a mortar ready to explode yet I self-implode each time
Because I refuse to unload
It makes my mind the victim within this fight
The fact that I will not attack but rather act and pretend
Like this suspension will defend me or better yet transcend me
Is another cover until exactly when?
Otherwise pending
How selfishly imposed is my level of deceit
Not a second of relief for I am a liar and a thief
To expose copiously my own hopeless struggle crumbling me
But if I don't take this venom that's coursing through me
If I don't choose lemons over poison
That's it, I'm done C'est la vie, ***** me
I'll write out each and every buffer
For this montage of self-sabotage isn't quite enough
To make me suffer
No.
It seems I need to be hit with lightning nineteen times while struck from behind and intertwined in the jaws of a great white shark before anything productive happens or anything creative sparks. Before I utilize the clandestine confines of this mind to do or say or think of something smart. Just another day to start another chapter in the story of my life. I've come so far and fought so hard to stay away from that knife. Known recognition through prepositions giving meaning to my trifles and tremblings, be they lucid dreams or presently vivid memories...
And never feigning, only straining harder each day
Contemplating carefully
The words that I say
The thoughts that I convey
The everyday reality that's now so far away
What can I do to replace the voices haunting me?
Flaunting their perfect prisms
And what I'll never be
Its never enough
And that's just too much..
Stealing my serene
Leaving me unclean
And never free
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
the oldest profession
doth bring much needed funds
housewives and mothers walking the streets
to supplement the household income
Mrs Jones is plying her female wares
in a motel suite somewhere
those extra dollars
shall pay the education fees
for her daughter Claire
as day to day living
isn't cheap
mothers and wives working the pavement
at any given time
the money they receive is a bonus
a nice little earner
a few bucks can be most helpful
as the family budget oft sinks in a well
these women don't haggle
with their clients too much
they give them what they want
and in return get what they need
a dime is a dime
it can be so useful
when the fortnightly paycheck
is so skint
the ladies of the night
aren't always in the game for the purposes of romping
they're lying on their backs
to fill the hole
in the domestic
piggy bank
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC