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"suzy" poems
An early evening gust broke the back of the day's blaze Still 90 degrees at eight in orange haze Sweat runs down my neck Through the gorge between my ******* The wind lifts my linen shirt runs its hands along my sides reviving memory of Forest Park of a blanket in the grass Where the pines trace so many faces Crackling popping kids stolen matches, running screaming victorious! Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk That whole afternoon I spent hammering caps Noise really makes us kids really especially annoying Mom wants us out! Gone! All of us! No needs. No excuses! No cookies! No slices of bologna! “No more Kool Aid! Out now! Out!” That evening I tried to dismiss the itchy sweat of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits at Gino's family picnic When some kid (I don't know?) between the rigatoni and the sweet corn Some kid tosses a sparkler into box of fireworks I don't know? whether to cry or laugh I was pretty scared Rockets going off across the lawn and onto porch Craze of colors through the trees Some at eye-level horror! But the sight of Aunt Nedda diving under picnic table Stockings, garter belt upended Capsized beyond her caring of uplifted dress Some images just stay with you, ya know? July 4th always lands for me on a firework's ***
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Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 1:34 AM UTC
July 4th Memories that Last
There's gods all around that pound you While the men in high heels surround you How much longer 'til they've found you? Suzy, do you know what you've done? She had her ways of seduction A femme fatale if there ever was one A high class killer and a smart one But everyone fails once or twice You spent the night in the hacienda Curled up on the white veranda To kingdom come they'd like to send ya Suzy, do you know you're on your own? The sun will rise tomorrow Do you need some time to borrow? Listen to the morning swallow You've got to come up with something quick How does it feel to be a rebel? To wake up dead next to the devil? You've got one more deal left to settle Suzy, I hope your aim is good Is that smoke in the distance? Is it a campfire or an instance? Is there anyone out here to witness, Whatever Suzy has up her sleeve? The gun that she carries Belongs to the man she married And tonight, along this lonesome prairie Suzy will meet him once more
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Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 2:28 AM UTC
The Ballad of Suzy
~explaining light to the blind~ ~for Suzy~ the insanity of even attempting who among us, the sighted, has the capability to clarify an animate inanimate, an untouchable invisible, that can be folded, bent, travel universes unseen at its own chosen speed, even to another sighted and to the blind... imagine then light as something that be recognized from the inside only with in- sight ~***think of the continuum from warmth to steel furnaced heat, that is an element of what is light, the sun cheek kissing, the furnace of chests when you grasp another’s body first time think of light as water, the faucet spigot a measured pouring, that can overshoot, the stream behind the house, a toe tickling masseuse caress, a dam’s waterfall endless crashing, a sea, wave licking sudden raging dangerous blend these sensations that belong to all, and you’ll know light better than most, indeed, light is for those who cannot vision except from the inside with a sight that can be touched, felt, imagined, and which the sightless command better than us ordinary thoughtless indeed light is as simple to understand as   abc, which you have never seen, but creates the words that we all use even share***~
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC
explaining light to the blind
Thailand ****** Can read my mind See my desire Feel my pain Siam Halloween in nana klong toey Thai delights even the ladyboys look good tonight they know how to **** over and survive using a cheap disguise Hey forang you wanna **** me? 1000 baht short time curiosity. I prefer real ladies with juicy butts Flavored with beer and sangsom whiskey ***** Take me home beat me with your **** asian Treats Make me lick your ***** feets Asian women are my lust filled desire They sit on my face until I can't breath no more Than make me pay for my ***** laundry Soap me up and knock me down Bangkok Thailand is my home town I slither along the Sukhumvit soi 11, devoted to the ***** I'm in 7th heaven... Her **** smells better than stupid blonde Suzy the airhead girl next door boring rubber doll Asian toilet scrubbers turn me on the never heard of boring old vain Beverly hills ugly rodeo drive full of stuffy old hags high on ****** pills Sad drag Beverly hills I lived in that phoney fake berg I love the ancient town Bangkok where my face gets slapped and hurt! *** is a weapon. ****** are mans desire Zeus fell in lust with a Greek goddess than expired? Nasty ****** in Thailand make me hard I become 18 again nothing else matters but fun with that wanna be ******
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 9:36 PM UTC
Thailand Courtesans of the Knight
No brain You're a little ******* gnome Walkin' around all 5'5 of him Acting like its his game we play Shutthefuckupyoustupidlittlesonofabitch You couldn't get respect even if You actually tried to learn concept & I truly hope, I know that hurts you That little piece of pride Mommy always told you, you're the apple of her eye, when she cares & when she doesn't? *You're her little ******* nightmare.* Your father was the love of her life She swears But she wouldn't touch him with a 7 foot pole Again, if she dared Well I'm letting you know, you little gnome I've found someone so much better He actually gives a **** about me He makes me so much wetter He's everything I've ever dreamed of I've left you High & dry Choking on my ******* dust. Her little garden doll Peeling to reveal that over time You'll do nothing but sit & rust. Over the years chipping away the paint Faster & faster **Snort & shoot your way to hell you ******* ****** *******
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
Let's Break Suzy's Lawn Ornament
No Tease Tonight I’m too tired to tease What I need is To be on my knees For I am so ready to please Ready to kiss my way Up from her knees, To her hairless pink lips Glistening with her need. Her little bud protruding Just begging to be ****** She’s just what I need She’s so ready to be ****** My lips circle her bud, My tongue dances on the tip, Her hands in my hair; Keeping my fire to her wick. He fire is raging Growing strong and brighter With each ******* kiss… With each probing lick… She cries out, I need you too, And I spin myself around Never loosing contact; With her jerking mound. I lower my hips, to Her waiting lips and tongue I cry out against her As they make contact as one. Two women needing to **** Two women needing to please Both getting ****** And I’m still on my knees. ©May 16, 2014 D. D. Suzy Q. Stories Publishing
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
No Tease Tonight
Hey, I'm not a lumberjack, or a fur trader there's only one pelt I'm interested in.... I don't live in an igloo or eat blubber, or own a dogsled Global warming has taken all the snow away.... and I don't know Jimmy, Sally or Suzy from Canada, i do know Partel, Kareem, Xi Chein and Steve and they're really really nice. I have a Prime Minister who is ******** not a president. I speak English and a little French, not American though we like to mock southern accents... And I pronounce it 'aboot, not about... I can proudly sew my country's flag on my backpack along with with motorhead and misfits patches... I believe in peace keeping, not policing unless you count the G20... diversity, not assimilation, unless it's the borg... and that the ****** is a truly proud and noble animal and a bald one is truely a wonder to behold... A toque is a hat that douchbags wear all year round, a chesterfield is a couch that my dunken friends sleep on, and it is pronounced 'zed' not 'zee', 'zed' unless its Zebra because Zedbra sounds stupid!!! Canada is the second largest landmass that can be pilfered by multinational conglomerates! The first nation of hockey! and the best part of North America... except vegas! My name is Josh!! And I am Canadian!!! EH?
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
I AM CANADIAN
My name is Sandy My twin sister's name is Suzy We hang out together Dressed up so cutely We look so much alike This is so very true But there are some things Only I like to do She is funny and laughs so loud I am the thoughtful one in the crowd She likes green I like blue She likes the playground I like it too We do look alike Sometimes you can see But  there are all the times When I am just me!
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Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 3:46 AM UTC
My Twin Sister
Busted up and broken, Looking less than before, Still admired from years ago, Still beautiful. 'get up and walk ten feet today', Admired again, Quite beautiful, Moving about, For nothing else, Than to prove, Strength, And love closely follows behind.
0
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
suzy Q.
RECORD: 2 + 2 = 5 FROGMAN: RaiDIhO HEAD ***** Wonka: ... There's no Hearthly way of knowing                          Which way they are growing.                          There's no knowing where they're toe-ing. Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Toe-ing... ***** Wonka: Or which way thought streams'a'flowin.                           Is it braining, is it storming?                           Is a braining-storm a'blowin'? [sharp rasp] ***** Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing                                                 So the anger must be growing                                                 Are the fires of passion a'glowing?                                                 Is the grimsly leader mowing?                                                 Yes! The anger must be growing                                                 'Cause the toe-ers keep on throwing [practically stcreaming] ***** Wonka: And they're certainly not showing                                                                     Any sign that they are slowing! [lets out a high-pitched, almost unHearthly stcream] Dr. Frodrick Fronkensteen: Throw!... the Hearth Switch! eyeGore: [shocked] Not the Hearth Switch! And, while sparks flew across the slab, The Number 5, with lies and tame, Came whiffling through the Tulgey Lab, And burbled as it came!" -- Lewis Carroll Suzy's: It halted,             and it gurgled The QCuloween's Trademark Seal, "I'm just Around 5 foot 9, and weigh a buck ninety-fine!" STOP: TURN THOUGHT
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
The Letter-Ing: raidho
RECORD: 2 + 2 = 5 FROGMAN: RaiDIhO HEAD ***** Wonka: ... There's no Hearthly way of knowing                          Which way they are growing.                          There's no knowing where they're toe-ing. Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Toe-ing... ***** Wonka: Or which way thought streams'a'flowin.                           Is it braining, is it storming?                           Is a braining-storm a'blowin'? [sharp rasp] ***** Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing                                                 So the anger must be growing                                                 Are the fires of passion a'glowing?                                                 Is the grimsly leader mowing?                                                 Yes! The anger must be growing                                                 'Cause the toe-ers keep on throwing [practically stcreaming] ***** Wonka: And they're certainly not showing                                                                     Any sign that they are slowing! [lets out a high-pitched, almost unHearthly stcream] Dr. Frodrick Fronkensteen: Throw!... the Hearth Switch! eyeGore: [shocked] Not the Hearth Switch! And, while sparks flew across the slab, The Number 5, with lies and tame, Came whiffling through the Tulgey Lab, And burbled as it came!" -- Lewis Carroll Suzy's: It halted,             and it gurgled The QCuloween's Trademark Seal, "I'm just Around 5 foot 9, and weigh a buck ninety-fine!" STOP: TURN THOUGHT
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29
We are rain, we are tears; we're the condensation on your beer mug. And we form, and fall, and feel forgotten some times. From heaven, to earth, and back again, we take trillions of tiny journeys— assemble in sheets, hover in mists/ trickle, splatter, pelt without mercy/ quietly collect and freeze/ loud as the sea, softer than the whisper of death—easy to deflect and shatter, with power to carve canyons. From shoulders we vault to elbows, dance down arms, scurry between legs, squish between toes, hurry down the drain linger on linoleum when you pad away from the shower, trailing steam down a sweaty hallway— to where he lays motionless, breathing sunny solstice dust in a closet-sized room. “Better”? “Oh, much.  And thanks for the towel, too”.                                                                            II. Everything about you was flat. I knew your hair was blonde but also something else— not dishwater or ***** or even unclean— “flat” was the only word that fit. Flat as your face, your chest, the bottoms of your shoes, and not a whole lot less scarred. Flat as your eyes— such eyes as I’d never seen; not always awake— hunting/wanting/sharp like a scavenger’s yet full of blind spots, placed there by the drug to impede self-perception— and wantonly green. I knew only your name. You hung with Jim, haunting Mother’s— just two junkies bumming change. I was amazed you managed to survive. House rule was never trust a ****** but home alone, in too much pain to care, I let you take a shower, borrow my towel. We compared spinal surgeries; vinyl siding on childhood homes; monsters and movies; fruits we didn’t like; a nod to new music/ put on your red shoes and dance the blues then places we’d go when our ship came in; the greasiness of the sun outside; the final indignity of death— anything but our lives just then. From summer cotton to suddenly nothing— no memory of how or why. You spurned my offer of a cigarette after with a gesture so shy and self-conscious I felt myself growing suspicious—then alarmed, confused, and finally, amused at my own lack of observation. You weren’t hiding anything. You just didn’t want me to see you as begging.
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Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 6:53 PM UTC
Suzy — [A Suite]
We are rain, we are tears; we're the condensation on your beer mug. And we form, and fall, and feel forgotten some times. From heaven, to earth, and back again, we take trillions of tiny journeys— assemble in sheets, hover in mists/ trickle, splatter, pelt without mercy/ quietly collect and freeze/ loud as the sea, softer than the whisper of death—easy to deflect and shatter, with power to carve canyons. From shoulders we vault to elbows, dance down arms, scurry between legs, squish between toes, hurry down the drain linger on linoleum when you pad away from the shower, trailing steam down a sweaty hallway— to where he lays motionless, breathing sunny solstice dust in a closet-sized room. “Better”? “Oh, much.  And thanks for the towel, too”.                                                                            II. Everything about you was flat. I knew your hair was blonde but also something else— not dishwater or ***** or even unclean— “flat” was the only word that fit. Flat as your face, your chest, the bottoms of your shoes, and not a whole lot less scarred. Flat as your eyes— such eyes as I’d never seen; not always awake— hunting/wanting/sharp like a scavenger’s yet full of blind spots, placed there by the drug to impede self-perception— and wantonly green. I knew only your name. You hung with Jim, haunting Mother’s— just two junkies bumming change. I was amazed you managed to survive. House rule was never trust a ****** but home alone, in too much pain to care, I let you take a shower, borrow my towel. We compared spinal surgeries; vinyl siding on childhood homes; monsters and movies; fruits we didn’t like; a nod to new music/ put on your red shoes and dance the blues then places we’d go when our ship came in; the greasiness of the sun outside; the final indignity of death— anything but our lives just then. From summer cotton to suddenly nothing— no memory of how or why. You spurned my offer of a cigarette after with a gesture so shy and self-conscious I felt myself growing suspicious—then alarmed, confused, and finally, amused at my own lack of observation. You weren’t hiding anything. You just didn’t want me to see you as begging.
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90
This ***** Artificially awake Lydia apples 20 years have passed oranges i want a do over manhole cover coins savage glares across the 4 wheeled property lines young moms not giving a **** that's alright kiss of sun hidden from anxious from blue oak , it's ridges pluming in the dappled twist and floundering wave, wiggling wave of oak leaves green as frogs. ponytail suzy, *** from galaxy sci-fi i brought up a cup while it was empty there, but so distracted by my own trembling effort, every hair a furry hood, every fatty fixture of my face a rebounding basset hound tennis shoes up to my neck, dumb naked in my greenery, already old somehow, the window closing, the permanency of parks, like a stilletto in a limosine, green fixture of my white blinded attempt to see tomorrow, tourist . thoughts of Sylvia , my gaping awe at the feminine, and its green garden. -cbrander
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Jun 26, 2022
Jun 26, 2022 at 12:26 PM UTC
poem this ***** artificially awake
Friendship. Something that should be valued highly. Jessica. Sometimes we take our oldest and closest friends for granted. Sydney. We forget just how much we love them. Rachel. When we meet new friends, Holly. We become scared. Sierrah. We... Dylan. I... Kaitlin. Do ridiculous things to impress them. Emily. Sometimes, my mind just slips away. Hannah. Why can't I always be my true self? Hollie. I suppose that's a hard thing to do... Brooke. I'm very fortunate for you. Beth Ann. I drag on you at times. Megan. But my life would be so different without you... Olivia. I don't know how, Molly. But it would be. Tiana. Thank you. Abbey. You keep me in line. Kateri. My life is like a puzzle. Madeline. (Well, I think ALL of our lives are like puzzles.) Taylor. I have many pieces and sections to me. Shaely. When one piece is lost, Sam. Then the puzzle is not finished. Drew. You actually do complete me. Zac. This poem is long. Kevin. But bear with me, please. Will. I can't come up with the perfect words to describe our relationship. Liz. This poem may seem redundant, Suzy. And that's because it is. Brittany. I am a lost person in the wild. Sister. And you, my friends, Mom. Are the trees, Dad. The wind, Grandma Bruns. The grass, Grandma Johnston. And the things that guide me along the shattered glass road. Grandpa Bruns. The things that keep me safe. Grandpa Johnston. For that I must thank you. Friends.
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
New & Old Friends
True tough tanks take turns trolling twitter, Suzy sells salad soon so buy some , Good guys got gargantuan grave grievances, Anarchy attracts anvils as antelopes acknowledge asparagus, Juvenile jerks jump joyfully as they eat jalapeños, Frank fries-fries frequently for favours, Luke love Leia lots lass let lust lie
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Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
Random tongue twister
Johnny the ball player Billy the kid Suzy the busy body Is best friends with Liz John is a lawyer William's a father Susan's divorced She feels like God forgot her Where are her friends now Elizabeth can't be bothered She's dying alone Government cannon fodder Days long forgotten Of a sunrise without pain Hope lies in youth Hate lives in age Why can’t we all share Like Mother once taught us Why do we die For the money, more dollars If we could see ourselves now Through the eyes of our past We would cry two tears For the loss of the first And the birth of the last
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May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
We Are a Society of Kids Once
There was a time I was maybe nine I could not stop staring into the sunshine Suzy told me I'd go blind I didn't believe her but I said I wouldn't mind When I finally took my eyes from the sun I started to run I faintly remember falling And then smiling towards the sky I understood why
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
Suzy, You Don't Know What You're Talking About
Blue ink was no friend Blue ink was the most boring plan For the trees and hills Suzy ran When Mama came with a stick in her hand For months and years Suzy despaired This forced acquaintance she wished to be spared This Hulk of a character Mama'd personify This waste of time, she knew not why I just wanna be free, Suzy lamented An uproarious laughter, with which she was greeted Why do you act all so tormented, said this voice Without blue ink, you will be mistreated How do you carve a path of your own How do you enforce a right you wouldn't have known How do you right a wrong you don't condone How do you condone life when left alone To the books and pages Suzy ran Devouring much material in the given span In a solid colour, she saw a world of wonder In its simple strokes, there was no more to be coaxed In happiness and despair, Suzy was elevated In health and sickness, she knew to be liberated In company and solitude, Suzy was educated In wealth and poverty, she knew she had profited Blue ink had granted her the highest of privileges For to live well, is to live with choice A coveted privilege, with which we rejoice
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 10:17 AM UTC
Suzy and her blue ink
how the Sparrow finds it comfortable to twist its head around and put its beak beneath its wing feathers and sleep is a mystery they keep to themselves
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Sep 2, 2021
Sep 2, 2021 at 10:00 AM UTC
an answer to Suzy Berlinsky
I swear, Our friendship was founded on Internet surfing. Violent yelps and giggles Erupt through the air, Making all those who know not of what we feel Shush us. But they will never know the true feelings behind all of the "spazzing", as you put it. We laugh and scream nonsense things about boats and bikes, pretending we know Korean or Chinese. But we both do know that's just the way we bond with one another. And I'd would choose you over a k-drama or a Barbie movie. Any day.
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Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 2:34 AM UTC
For Suzy
Ama the monster, an insidious creature of torture and despair, sings in her lair of misdirection and good intentions. And one day Ama wakes up to find herself carrying a child, a ****** mother is she. Ama gives birth to Suzy, and lets the newborn walk the Earth. Suzy, let rest upon your lap the mourner’s fatigue, for whilst it brings but pain upon his shoulders to bear, to your grasp beholds only a wholly indifference. And Suzy Suzy, when you see the man walk weak, offer your services for only a final home does he seek. I sit, the car radio playing a tune of static, Suzy my old friend on my passenger side, humming along. Soon I begin to argue with Suzy, of love and life and where I went wrong. As we drive I know not where we go, but only that we must make it there. Suzy told me I’d hate it when we make it there. I hope to prove Suzy wrong.
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 6:54 PM UTC
Suzy (and the static) in Three Parts
My sister – camping on the coast Muttering over macaroni Fixing salad Talking to a seagull “George” mews like a cat awaiting dinner Waddling web-foot along the stony cliff To him – life is a handout against the backdrop of the setting sun Garlic bread, spaghetti, chocolate chip cookie – My sister adopts things What was ever wild after? Even this “Master of the Wind” eats Italian tonight! Till the “Alpha Bird” younger stronger spots the eye of orange on plate of white – Whirls in on protest and demand George responds in kind Intruder seizes a meatball George squawks and lunges his last... ________ The sunset on the Maine coast tonight enthroned in vaporous haze Imbued with fragrance-- ocean rose The sky-- delicate mountain laurel pink bleeding into purple where the tallest spires of spruce have stabbed upward From the coastline's rock comes qweedling of the robins calls of sea birds in the peaceful distance.... ___________         ….George struggles in Alpha's grip on windpipe Meal forgotten as nature serves its worst His neck arched back Wings fluttering desperate in his last display a spray of feathers Strength will take this day Plunge it into faint squawks George dissolves limp in quivers as Alpha-- weightless victor lifts away Suzy cries out despair at loss of little friend         “I can't! I can't! I rush out to hold   his last limp sigh ...tossing his gray and white into another sky
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Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC
Sky Rat
I saw a little puppy Running alone toward the back of the apartment buildings But then I saw his man He was a great big man to have such a tiny puppy It is starting to snow now There is no milk or cream for the coffee And no money And it is not food stamp day…sigh Things are how they are And there is no use crying over no milk Tomorrow my brother will leave He’ll go back to Tennessee Back to his oxymoronic life His friendships with Pagan Hillbillies My brother is afraid Of his parents Of my parents Of being alone No longer feeling much like “Win a car Jay” Because he gave up everything for a known flake And cheat Gotta go hang with Suzy today Maybe “Win a car Jay” will come with Maybe we’ll see a movie Maybe we’ll see a little puppy
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 10:18 AM UTC
Observations
Poor little Suzy Going around calling people Derogatory medical terms For fun Don't you know that Makes more enemies Than making more friends. Beautify yourself with Silence.
0
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 1:36 PM UTC
Suzy B. (aka Russian pain).