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You can pretty up anything. / Covered up in Gold Leaf. / It's still crap under it.
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Alphabetically speaking, my mind is leaking, just / Because I know words that start with a given / Consonant, it does not mean I can write
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Sweetly seductive, a liquid siren in disguise. / Took me 30 odd years to finally open my eyes. / Fun for a long time, then I crossed that l
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Where oh where is my colostomy bag?
Where oh where has that sucker gone?
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A voice that seduces me,
poetry that melts my heart.
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Sunset, shadows,
mixing as night falls.
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Your love is a staple I need,
like air to breathe, on which I feed.
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I owe the IRS 20,000 bucks,
credit cards are maxed,
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The lingering lavender scent of you
makes me softly sigh.
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I watch in loving silent contemplation,
ripples of your reflection making me smile,
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(G)od blesses my days and looks over me at night. / (O)nly asking for my faith in Him. / (D)oing His will in my Life. / (G)athering Him to
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I can make an Angel background, I'll whip something up. I need the practice.
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Flying to her lover on a wing and a prayer,
passing moons, planets, like they weren't even there.
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Nobody can really convince another to stay or go,
we all have freedom of choice don't you know.
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I sit alone and wonder, in my Ivory Tower. / What the other Women have, just what is their power? / I feel I am beautiful, my Mother the Qu
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In my slumber, I am taken to you, / Dreams unfolding creating a euphoric place; / While Im alive I'll always be true, / The heavens holding
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"Poetry is what one writes when all else has failed, and a body would be too hard to hide." Griswold
We all have had one of those crappy days,
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My soul overflows with an abundance of feeling,
the center of my universe, you send me reeling.
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I have no regrets, I don't feel the pain,
I got, your old cold shoulder.. once again...
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With eyes the color of a deep rich wood,
a smile that lightens the blackest of nights.
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Here is my Background for Kenya, Africa.
Background: Flamingos on Lake Nakuru
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Eyes closed, head bowed, I meditate,
prayers having been said, I listen.
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I stand on the threshold, the yawning precipice,
wondering what I did to deserve all of this.
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The hot summor son, blaized into my bludshot eyeballs,
it remembered me of when i gots pooked in one once.
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Sinking, weightless, feeling, emotion gone,
the silence beckons, calling to my lost soul.
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She watches from on high, the puppets below,
dancing to the marionette's sad tune.
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I'm tired of heartache, tired of pain,
will I ever be truly happy again?
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The Prime Chancellor ordered that we fire on this primitive world(J8675309 on our charts).
No matter how infantile their nuclear research
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unbearable heat
moisture drying instantly-
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Long abandoned ways of yesteryear,
tossed away with the wreckage and chaff.
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Brushed my long lustrious hair for 1000 strokes,
getting ready for a date with the love of my life.
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A little of this, maybe a little of that,
perfume fragrance development is where it's at.
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