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Long poem by Peter Duggan | Details |

In memory of Bob

In memory of Bob
A true story.

It was in spring of two thousand when I first saw Bob. I’d just started working at Perth Dental hospital, and in fact it was my first day there. I walked up to the front door of this building, but it wasn’t yet opened. So I turned around and went to sit in the bus shelter which was just outside the building. As I went to sit down I noted a dark skinned gentleman sitting there with a happy, benign look on his face. He was about five feet eight give or take a little, and he was rather a thickset man who looked like he’d done his fair share of hard work in his sixty years or more.

     There was something about this Gentleman that I could not quite put my finger on. He had a certain charisma about him; not the phony kind of charisma that one seen in the car salesman or the philanderer who messes with women’s heads, no, Bob had a kind of friendly smile for everyone that he met, and he seemed to draw people into him with his love, and gigantic heart. I knew as soon as I met him that Bob was most definitely for me.

      As Bob looked at me and smiled, the whole world seemed to open up. He said “Ow ya  going mate” in a loud ebullient manner, then we started to chat. Bob was like myself, a thinker, and straight away we started philosophizing about this, that, and the other, and it was like we had known each other forever. Then all of a sudden I found Bob talking about death, and the difference in the way the Maori people faced death, compared to the rather the silly way us white folk look at the subject with great fear in our hearts. Now this had always interested me, and  somehow it just seemed natural to talk to this Maori gentlemen on this subject, and we spoke about it till the doors opened and it was time to work.

      I don’t think anything happens just by chance, and I definitely have this feeling that Bob and I were meant to meet, and I really think this was a major destiny thing. I have found during the course of my life,  that as I am aging, I can feel something pushing me into a certain direction, and I always felt that Bob was part of all this; and I had much to learn from him. Although I have never believed in organized religion, and never followed one I have always felt deeply spiritual, and I have met many people who I learned from, and Bob was most definitely one of them with all his great wisdom and patience. As I came to know Bob, we had many dialogues together, on many subjects. Bob used to love music and could always have time to plonk away on his guitar. He used to come round to my place and we would play songs together, though both he and I were no Eric Clapton’s, I would bang around on my guitar and play the harp, while we would both take out turns at singing. We’d have a smoke or a beer or two, and we’d play songs all day long,  ahhh, I remember those days well, the memories are so strong.

     Bob was one hell of a man, I could tell that he had been a wild one in his youth,
But when I knew him in his sixties he was an icon of wisdom and virtue; he had a kind word for everyone, and gave all his time to anybody who needed him, always.
He used to hear me waffling on like an idiot, trying to make him like me [as I always did] but never once did he tell me how foolish I was, he would just smile knowingly at me. He used to stand there at the window for hours, just drinking in the trees, or the clouds in the sky, and yet he was so aware, I used to try to sneak up on him; it couldn’t be done. His awareness was incredible.

     Then one day Bob fell ill with terminal cancer, and he knew that he had very little time left on this Earth. He lay there sick for days in intolerable pain,  but you never heard one complaint from him, even when he only had days to live, he was still worrying about the welfare of others. When the day finally come for Bob to leave his shell; he was lying there in deep sleep, when all of a sudden he woke up, with a smile on his face. His children asked him ‘Dad, do you want some pain killers” Bob laughed, compassion written all over his face, and he said to them ‘Not one of you has a clue, have you’ and he died with a big smile on his face.

   His daughter got in touch with me, and told me about his death, and also told me that his last wish was to have me watch his soul leave his body. I felt very honored about this and went and sat with his body [as Maoris do]. I got the most peaceful feeling come to me [which I presume was his spirit leaving his body] as I watched his silent body, a Mari war stick and a beautiful rose lay across his chest. I still see it, and I feel blessed by it. He was my Maori warrior, and I adored the man.

Long poem by James Blubaugh | Details |

Getting a Haircut

I never dreamed when I retired that my budget would be strained by a haircut.  I gave up on barbers years ago, now I go to a salon (that’s pronounced with a long “on”).  I’ve plopped down as much as twenty-five dollars to have my hair cut, hoping to get it done just the way I wanted.  Now, I’m not complaining, I’d be willing to pay any reasonable amount for a good haircut.  But, have you considered the odds of getting your hair cut the way you want it?  Let me leave you in on a little secret: “Ain’t gonna happen.”

I’m not a man who wears his hair long, I just like to have a good covering on my head.  Believe me, that’s getting harder to realize every day.  The good Lord has to take a recount every morning since He keeps tabs on things like that.  	Yes, I’ll admit it, I’m getting pretty thin on top.  But, if it’s left just a little long, I can blow-dry it and pouf it so that it covers pretty well.  On the sides I have no problem, there I grow it like a sheep dog.

I’ve tried so many hairdressers that I guess I’m going to have to start commuting to neighboring cities.  I usually start the ordeal like this:
“I want just a trim, just evened out, please.  Leave the sides heavy and don’t take anything off the top, it’s too hard to replace.  And pleaseeee don’t touch the sideburns.”

“Yes sir, I understand totally.  It’s your hair and you should get it just the way you want.”
Ah, I settle back in the chair and give a sigh of relief, finally its going to happen.  She flips me around so I’m not facing the mirror, and I notice an awful pile of hair falling onto the cover she placed around my shoulders.  I glance down to see whose it is, and she says, “Please hold your head up straight.”

What’s she trying to hide?  Seems like an awful lot of activity on top of my head.  Finally, she spins the chair around so I’m facing the mirror.  She has her clippers poised just at the top of my ear and asks, “May I cut your sideburns off straight across?”

I scream “No!”  But already she’s cut so much of them off that it’ll take me the next month to grow them back again.  She pleads, “But, I don’t like them long.”
Who really cares, they’re my sideburns.  Besides, I don’t like her burgundy hair but I didn’t say anything.
She presents a smiling face and offers me a small mirror to view the back of my head (so I can see that big bald spot right near the top).  Good grief, I’ve been scalped again.

“How’s that look?” she asks just as if she’s done everything I asked.
Am I supposed to be honest and diplomatic or tell her the truth?  After all, if I insult her and cause her to have a bad day, she can’t put it back anyway.
“It’s fine,” I lie one more time.  I didn’t get it cut the way I wanted, and all that hair she cut off she stuffed down the back of my shirt.  I could just scream.

My wife is the voice of reason.  “Don’t have a cow, it’ll grow back in a few weeks.”
Yea right, just in time for the whole ordeal to start over again.  I swear I’m going to take a Nazarite vow and let it grow.

Well, at least its not as bad as when I was a kid.  My Dad used to take me to this nice old man in Frostburg.  He was a nice guy, but he only knew how to cut hair one way.  He scalped everyone who came within five feet of his chair.

Dad always went there, of course he didn’t have any hair to start with.  I always made him take me to the progressive guy two streets away.  He would cut it just like I asked, and my Dad would pay him the fifty cents and mumble, “You certainly didn’t get your monies worth.”  Good grief, who said anything about wanting my monies worth.  I wanted my hair.

Times have sure changed.  Fifty cents way back then to nearly twenty-five dollars now.  And they don’t even realize I would have to come back sooner if they didn’t cut it all off.

What ever happened to the axiom “the customer is always right”?  If you ask me, the customer is always bald when it comes to the hair salon.
So, what’s price of a good hair cut?  I have no idea - I haven’t had one in ages.

Long poem by Ruth Brown | Details |

All about Steve, and Mary

All about Steve...(and Mary)

On her first day of working
Their eyes did meet
He took one glance
And thought she was sweet

She looked at him kindly
And rolled up her sleeve
She said "pleased to meet you"
He answered "I am Steve"

They broke into chatter
And had a good laugh
Which caused a commotion 
Amongst all the staff 

Sparks were now flying
For all round to see
He plucked up the courage
And said "be with me"

Not a soul could part them
They both became one
A meeting of mindsets
Based on good fun

Few months had passed by now
It was going so well
He told her he loved her
Without words she could tell

When it came to crunch time
He could not be true
His sense was cold hearted
And she became blue

He said they were different
And left her for days
He needed some time out
Which parted their ways

This made her feel worthless
Deserted with drought
Wasting good moments
Full of self doubt

I can't believe it's over,
I really want to talk.
Can we meet for coffee,
Or instead perhaps a walk?

I have so much to say to you
It's all to do with healing
Time to try to understand 
Just how your feeling

I wish you would talk to me,
And say exactly what you mean.
I don't want to push you away,
Maybe I was too keen?

I need to find the answers, 
Of why you broke my heart.
What is there wrong with me?
It was great right from the start....

I cannot find the words to say
Except without the yelling
You see it's hard for me to speak
About my tears that might be welling

I'm really not that great at this
You should leave me while you can
I am probably no good for you
I'm only half a man.

Steve spent his time alone
No words he could utter
Kept all things to his chest
And pulled down the shutter

Weeks went by without a word
Both parties felt shameless
Angering the hornets nest
Each becoming blameless

Suddenly the light turned on
It happened in a flash
He came to his senses
And realised he'd been rash

Too soon to call it over
He ran straight to her house
Armed with some flowers
Quite sheepish like a mouse

They talked about what had occurred 
This man had found a voice
But scared to speak up properly
He took breath and made his choice 

They knew they had their differences
On occasion they might vary
But who could match his perfect girl
There was no one quite like Mary

 A lady likes to tell her woes
To say just how she's feeling
Be nurtured and be listened to
To help her with the healing

A gentleman will walk away
When he is full of worry
Distract himself with something else
To cover up the flurry
To brush up on the other half
Takes time and lots of learning
For each of them are quite complex
Involving lots of yearning
Both would like to be worked out
In part without a mention
A way to solve their differences
To ease away the tension
If each could understand themselves
To recognise they vary
Then all would make a lot of sense
And Steve could live with Mary 

Long poem by SillyBilly theKidster | Details | . You can read it on' st_url='' st_title='A Psycho Path's Prey'>

A Psycho Path's Prey

My prey lays on the table somewhat consciously.
He is slowly reviving from my injection that put him to sleep.
He is secured to the table with duct tape tightly.
I'll remove the gag from his mouth when he awakens fully.
His muffled screams begin inevitably.
It's time to greet my very soon to be very deceased.
Brandishing my blade in front of the face of he
I say to him calmly but very assertively,
"I'm going to remove your gag, but I'll cut your tongue out if you scream.
Nod if you understand me and agree."
After nodding at me shaken understandably,
I removed the gag, he then began to speak.
"What's going on? Who Are you?" he said to me.
I replied, "It would appear that I am your final destiny."
He looked at me shaken and asked, "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I'm about to kill you," I said to him nonchalantly.
I held up a photo of a young lady.
"She's now dead because of you," I said to he.
I held up another photograph for him to see.
"You killed this man too apparently
on a drunk hit and run accident spree."
"I didn't kill them," he pleaded, "It wasn't me."
I held up another photo and simply stated, "Oh really?"
"You killed this little girl on the day of her birthday party.
Never another birthday will she or her grieving family ever again see."
I held up more photos for him to see.
Some were children, some were young, some were elderly.
"..but it wasn't me, I swear," he cried pleadingly.
"It wasn't me," he cried, "It was the booze. It completely takes over me."
"Now there's a situation," I said to he,
"that I'm not completely unsympathetic to actually.
You see, I can't help myself either," I said to him.
"I have no control over my desire to kill human beings."
"I promise I'll never drink again," he then said to me,
"I'm so sorry for all I've done.  Please, please believe me."
"You've done this way too many times to be truly sorry.
You would just kill again if I set you free
and so very soon you will be wrapped in garbage bags neatly
and dropped to the bottom of my little corner of the world under the sea
where you will never be lonely. You will share very similar company
with others much like you who have had this moment with me.
Neither you or I are in full control of our destiny,
but it would appear that I hold the upper hand presently,"
and as I plunged my blade through his heart I was immediately released
from my dark passenger's embrace that allows me no peace.
I don't know why I am the way that I am.
All I want more than anything is to be a normal and good man,
so as long as my dark passenger continues to haunt me,
killing other human beings will be the way I always will be,
so I'll channel my darkness where it will be most in need.
I'll take out the garbage and dump it at the bottom of the sea.
I like to write dark occasionally,
so don't be turning me in to any law enforcement agency.
I've just been viewing my collection of DEXTER DVDs
which has motivated me to write dark lately.

Long poem by Faith Carmichael | Details |


You are incredible.

Even if I shouted ‘I love you!’ one hundred times in your face,
 I don’t think it would suffice.
Maybe if I whispered it in your ear late at night?
When we are both entangled in each other,
 In that duvet I forced you to buy 

You are the paradigm of Love 

To me anyway. 

And probably to many other women given the chance,
 But I shall not give it to them. 
For you are mine and mine alone.
 I do believe it should stay that way. 

My favourite thing about you, well one thing anyway;
 Is the space between your hairline and your right ear. 
It looks ever so soft, 
And ever so softer to kiss. 
I do this when you are asleep, I don’t think you notice. 
Although your eyes do flutter sometimes. 
Could you be awake and pretend not to be? 
Well that would just add to your loveliness. 

I also love the moment when you wake up.

Watching whatever the first thing that comes into your head and seeing your expression.
You’re usually look straight at me, smiling. 
So that’s always a positive. 

You are full of positives.
 It is like you are a walking happy.

It also helps that you are incredibly handsome, 
And not only just to me. 
When we are walking down the aisles in Tesco’s,
 It’s like a vicinity full of side eyes. 
I love it.  
I don’t even need to tell anyone that you are mine
Well, it is pretty self-evident. 
Why would a strange women randomly be pushing your trolley? 

I love how you don’t hold my hand all the time,
 Or kiss me every time we part. 
It makes the time that you do, 
That ever more pleasant.

My favourite day with you is a Sunday.
 Neither of us are religious. 
We sit in our chairs in the conservatory like little old people 
You The Telegraph and me The Times
With our cups of tea, you with two sugars and me with one.

You are so smart, one would agree that is a good attribute to have 
But you are smart yet making no one around you feel dumb 
You make them feel smarter. Just by being you
And that is sexy. 
Smart is the new sexy
I heard that off Sherlock on BBC one night
 I remembered that line because it made me think of you

You wear cute sweaters that smell of that cologne I bought
 I like to wrap my arms around your waist and rest my head on your back 

Inhaling you. 

 I like to watch you go outside, when the neighbour’s kid lost their ball in our garden. 
She is a sweet girl. 
Unbeknownst to her parents she’s probably even sweeter around you than them.
 I think people are just naturally nicer around you. 
Because you are a genuinely nice person. 

You’ll make a wonderful father, we can be three pigs in a blanket
Your good with children and me, you make the world sound so lovely. 

That’s because it is

 When you’re around. 

Long poem by Kimber James | Details |


I never imagined things would come to this
With you, life is filled with such bliss.
All the laughs we share,
No other memories could compare.
I love your smile
It's more radiant than the sunset's reflection off the ocean.
More beautiful than the tidal waves in motion.
My life is complete,
All the times with you are set on repeat.
Your voice when you sing
Brings a smile so wide
Up to my eyes
You make me feel hypnotized.  
Rewind, pause, play and fast-forward are four buttons
If life had buttons, things would change all of a sudden
You could go back
When things start to crack
You could pause and stay in that moment
Just because
You could play
And go day by day
Or fast-forward and see
What life has to offer
Can I press rewind?
Id go back and give you all my time.
From the very beginning, ive felt weve had this connection.
Since then, I’ve tried to show affection. 
Id press rewind
And show you more
My feelings for you would galore.
Like a firework in the sky
Like a bird soaring high
Id make you want me
Just as much as I want us to be
Id give you every dime
Id give you all my time
Id walk every mile
To be your every laugh and every smile
Can I press fast-forward?
To see what life would have to offer
Would your hand be in mine
Would our fingers intertwine
Would we dance and sing
In perfect rhythm and harmony
Would we go on an adventure
To explore the whole world together
Can I press play?
Stay in this moment 
And take it day by day
I want you now
To you, I wanna say my vows.
Vow to stay through sickness and health
Through the poor and the wealth
Id swim across the ocean
Id walk the land
Id hike up a mountain
Just to hold your hand
Fast-forward would finally allow you to be mine
Id skip everything just to see the stars align
Should I press pause?
And stay in this moment 
just because
Right now the butterflies in my belly are fluttering
Trying to find sweetest words- stuttering. 
Ill press fast-forward
Pressing pause would be torture
I want you now and to never go
That I need you to know
Rewind, pause, play and fast-forward are four buttons
If life had buttons, things would change all of a sudden
You could go back
When things start to crack
You could pause and stay in that moment
Just because
You could play
And go day by day
Or fast-forward and see
What life has to offer
Ill press fast-forward and then ill press play. 
Ill skip everything and have you that day
Life doesnt have buttons so ill have to wait
Id wait patiently all my life because you are my soulmate.

Long poem by madhavi suyog pagare | Details |

The Intensifying love story

The Intensifying love story by 
I simply adore you, my Mesmerizing 
As you are my first love.
Who lighted my heart with full of pride and 
Who ignited the ecstasy towards lovely life.
Who relieved my pains and took sorrows 
as boon.
You made me fall sick in your love when I 
see your madness.
I like the way,
The way you gazed at me and my smoky 
The way you smiled at my mystifying and 
enigmatic appeal.
The way you every time praises me.
The way you galvanized me and proved 
the meaning of life.
You are the one,
Yes, you are the one who aroused my 
feelings, my emotions.
Yes, you are the one who explored my 
passion of love, flaming in my charismatic 
Yes, you are the lovely treasure which god 
had baptized me.
Yes, you are the one who turned the page 
of my life.
Eureka, I found my true love!!!!
Bewilderedly I did not know, where is my 
love taking me to ??
But still I like the way,
Like, the way you clutched me into your 
Like, the way you kissed my palms.
Like, the way you hugged me, caressed 
Like, the way you rubbed your fingers on 
my lips.
Like, the way you tickled me on my neck.
Like, the way you squeezed my cheeks.
Like, the way you holded me up towards 
the sky.
Like, the way when you inspired me to fly 
so high.
Tears dropped from my eyes and the very 
next moment I realized that it is my 
sensational love. My true love. Then I 
decided that no one had right to do this 
except you. If you want to know the 
reason?? If yes??
Yes, because I seriously fell in love with 
Yes, because you are the one to whom god 
had assigned me to.
And here comes the Swifted instance 
When, the moment you wore the golden 
ring in my finger and I was happily waving 
Just can’t forget the time when our long 
lasting friendship turned into lifetime 
It was just the blooming of two lover’s 
indicating the herald of the marriage. It 
means a lot for any girl in this amazing 
And yes, you will always find my heart 
topped with love showered only for you. 
For you!!
And till my last breathe, my heart beats, 
beating for you, only for you SUYOG!!
In fervour I wanted you to be mine forever, 
We both sojourned in each other soul so 
deeply that we just can’t wait for a single 
second, unless and until, we share what is 
running in our mind. It’s just because we 
are so much accustomed to each other 
I Love you, adore you, adore you forever 
my Love.

Long poem by Emm 'n Ashe Lemons | Details |

Birthday Wish - A

There lie cake and candles
And I'm not knowing what to do
I clap along to their singing
Hoping they finish their quadrilingual song
And we get through
I lean over the cake pulling my hair away
Reminiscing quickly over the past year, past day
I hear someone tell me to make a wish, asking me if I will
So I think of everything I wanted, things I claimed that to have them I would even kill
But it all seemed so petty for a birthday wish, too superficial
I wanted this wish to mean something, something crucial
I glance up quickly and scan the crowd
Listening to their tone deaf singing, so proud
Think of what helped me survive, made everything okay
And I know what to wish for
But I steal a glance at the door
She isn’t there, though I hoped she was
Guiding, watching me grow, like she always does
I know what to wish for, and lean forward at last
Structuring my wish fast
I wished for them
I wished for her who was there for me day or night
To talk to, play with, even fight
I wished for him who spoke his heart so true
But hid it so well I never had a clue
I wished for him who was too small
But his personality built him up so tall
I wished for her who never did overreact
She's crazy and placid, that’s a contradicting fact
I wished for him who's bribed to walk
And makes me laugh with our random talk
I wished for him, his smile so wide
Remembering that when he left, I cried
Wished for her who always nags
Always there for a vent, a gush, and loving me always, in riches or rags
I wished for him, the one I held a hidden love for
The one that always gave then gave some more
I wished for her, the total crazy
The one so different, yet the same as me
I wished for the two to trust
The true male version of us
I wished for the one I feel the need to shelter
The one that has helped me just as I've helped her
I wished for the perfect couple standing by
Who will probably be in love till they die
I wished for the guy who shares my dad's name
For his smile, conversation, and jokes that are just plain lame
I wished for the brother missing
Despite all the years of fighting, hitting, and dissing
I wished for each and every one of them, for them all
The kids crowding around me, filling the room wall to wall
I wished to have them by my side till the end of time
There to catch me at every fall and help me with every climb
The ones there with me through this journey
The ones I love, and who love me
I want them there with me through every endeavor
So I wished to have them forever and ever

Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

Vasava - An Untold Story 13/Many

Vasava – An untold story					13/Many 

It appeared that the rhythms of her moving steps, were effecting
Even the sound of instruments, being played over there
And the viewers were rocking and were almost unconscious 
Under the magic of her enchanting dance, where 
She was trying to be one, with her heart and soul’s favorite Krishna**

Spectators were in a confusion, whether they should hear 
The sound of her Noopur’s** coming from her beautiful thrilling legs
Or they should watch the matchless beauty of her alluring face
The bewilderment kept on,  through out the night
Till Vasava’s performances remained on the stage

The eyes of spectators were trying, not to miss the charms of her beauty
And their ears were trying not to miss any sound, coming from her Nooper’s  
Which were tied up with her feet and were thrilling with her dancing steps
Everyone’s only wish and desire, in those rare moments was 
The show of her heavenly beauty, must go on and on and should never end

But like every thing which starts one day, in this mortal world
The show of Vasava also came to an end, in the early morning hours of next day
And suddenly the beautiful glamour of the night, started looking dull
When Vasava took leave from her spectators, with her half smiling face
After giving them the most beautiful gift of her company to all the guests
After closing of the annual function of Vijayadesmi**
Everyone left the auditorium of the Palace
Wishing and hoping that next year only, they would again be here
To see and witness the splendid beauty of Vasava and to hear the melodies
Which would keep pouring honey, in their ears again years after years

Emperor Udiyan also left the Palace, but with a heart,
Feeling the weight of a mountain on his chest
It became difficult and more difficult, for him to forgot her face
But more difficult it was for him to accept,
That Vasava can not be possessed, even by a mighty King like Udiyan 

Her thoughts and her feelings in his mind, were going higher and higher
Life the rising waves of a disturbed sea, they were splashing,
On the shores of his completely lost and disturbed mind
Causing Udiyan not to rest, for a while during the day and 
Even during the next night, in which Udiyan could not sleep for a while


Kanpur India   4th April 2010                                                         to continue in 14/ Many

** Two star means already explained earlier. Please see references in previous parts

Long poem by Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Details |


Sometimes, I wish I am a man
For if I want to win a heart
I will do everything I can
To be with the person, I love

I will talk to her about anything and everything under the sun
I will show her my day to day growing interest
I will show this every now and then
So long as her peace, I will not disturb

If she does not reply, I will leave a message
I will call her for sometime: a minute or two
I will show her I am concerned
I will let her see I care

I will try to befriend her
Know openly her goals and dreams
I will let her feel that with those she said 
I am willing to be a part of it

No rules or custom shall stop me to show 
If she rich, I must strive hard than before
I must let her know, I am someone dependable
I am someone diligent and truly responsible

I will let her be my one and only
That, I am someone who is faithful
Even if she has a lot of suitors
I will not compete with anyone but myself

I must let her see I am all that she's looking for
I will be determined and will pursue her
Give her flowers if I can; Give her any gift if I can
But with each gift, I'll touch it with some personal me

To make her remember me, That even though I bought
It is specially for her, a part of me is included in it
I will let her see my persistence and sincerity
If she is too hard still,I will try to get closer with persons close to her

To her family, her friends and even colleagues at work
If they will see me good to her, I hope they will be my bridge to her
I hope they will all the more make me shine to her
I hope if ever I win them, so her heart and yes I will win

If she has been hurt before,I will let her see am not there to hurt more
Instead, I am there to help, to restore and to heal any hurts
If in any event it was inevitable that I hurt her, I will again win her back
For I do not want to lose her, I would rather be the one hurting than her

I will focus on the day I met her, for I want to be her present and future
Whatever was her in the past, I will lay it rest and be gone history
That even if past the years, age touch us physically and emotionally
I will stand steadfastly on her side for as long as God will permit

I will ask fervently for God's blessing and grace
Sensitive enough and with her happiness as my priority
With all these, I believe no heart is so hard and cold
That it can not be moved, That it can never even feel

Lastly, I will not make any promises
Just I will do, I will do

11:56 am


Long Poems