How Long's A Piece Of String?
I don't know. How long is a piece of string. Is it short or is it long. Is it infinity and beyond.
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I don't know. How long is a piece of string. Is it short or is it long. Is it infinity and beyond.
It's about the definition of marriage you say Who put you in charge of Websters any way.
I'm late up again, Why can't you see. Opuss please stop calling me. No don't. Actually, A day without you I couldn't bear to breathe. You keep me sane when I'm at work, At home you're such a perk.
I love them all, Big and small. Round or square, I don't care. Brown, cream, black, red The colour don't mess with my head. I like the posh ones, The "oh gosh!" ones.
SOMETHING RANK I chanced upon a charming garden, newly planted and in bloom, with tender shoots and fragrant blossoms, good to brighten any gloom.
22 said to 88: "You've both been looking fat of late; Perhaps you both should join a gym, And minus some to be more slim?" _ _ ________ ( o ) ( o ) / we're...
Paint a picture for me Of what I want to see So many thing that can be Pose for me Picture for me Show me what you can do for me Scars maybe just give me the stars Or the perfect smile or give me...
Once there was a Summertide that seemed to last forever. It stretched into eternity, ending never. How I miss those far-flung days when friends were always at my side.
Oh booze You make me snooze When I should be cooking food. And when I've eaten, I feel beaten So I pour another glass And sit here on my arse.
If my eyes no longer see. Beauty that's in front of me. If my legs no longer run. Shoot me with the starter's gun. If it becomes too hard to breathe. And my chest starts not to heave.
M oving and shaking. not O ver with making. random V erses with statements. I n these random placements. i N eed to pay bills. G et food on the table. A nd poetry's cool. its N ot like I'm unable.
The slow descent down palace steps, Has me gagging in my wine, Those floaty dresses, red rouged lips, To make us seem 'divine'. We must sit straight, or God forbid, Imagine if we slouched...
Life. A dream for the wise. A game for the fool. A comedy for the rich. A tragedy for the poor. A gift for the pious. A laugh for the humorist. A vexation for the cynic. A cult for the communist.
A friend is like a flower, a rose to be exact, Or maybe like a brand new gate that never comes unlatched. A friend is like an owl, both beautiful and wise.
Today I found a friend who knew everything I felt she knew my weakness and the problems I've been dealt.
Sunshine in the morning, A smile upon your face, Love as day is dawning, Your dress, lined in lace.
Far too busy and I miss writing these bits. Why don't I have the time to make up these hits. I need to relax and chill, find a release. Write something nonsense, my poor brain to appease.
The cruelness of wasted life. Locked inside a prism of hate. Fuelled by a design that's rife. Padlocked behind white gates. How does one escape the tears. The solitude and sanctuary.
Recently I heard of a cat, More like a mouse, A cat named Jatt, Jatt the cat. Rather a rat. Opussians cried at literature wrongly placed, And wrongly accused. In the wrong spot, Mismatched, Misplaced.
To love is to share life together to build special plans just for two to work side by side and then smile with pride as one by one, dreams all come true.
“One thousand ways to say good-bye. One thousands ways to cry. One thousand ways to hang your hat before you go outside. I say good-bye good-bye good-bye. I shout it out so loud.
*to be read in a dull, depressing voice* Hi, the name's Billy, I'm kind of a gnome, And I've been diagnosed with: 'Bad-gnome-syndrome'.
Distant memories of long, long ago Of summers long and winter's snow Childhood games, cubs and scouts Hating school, bullies and sprouts.
Would I climb the highest lands.