Encountered Poems - Poems about Encountered

From work to love. From family and friends Have you encountered this Senryu? Being betrayed Is insidiously mean By those you trusted (575) (C) Copyright John Duffy...

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Apostle Matthew encountered... artist, dragon and gangster extraordinaire Written September ninth, two thousand and twenty one. Reposted exactly three years later. Here at 2 Highland Manor Drive Schwenksville, Pennsylvania. Actually all three people linkedin to each other courtesy Dissociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personality Disorder). Wiccan up to mystical alien way I raptly listened as she didst soothsay scanned -- din heavy yen reference about paganistic folkloric history regarding...

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Walking past the dreadful land, I realized it was someone’s last few breaths. The sorrow in their eyes, The misery that just landed in their life, With the heavy blue right above their head tight. Is going to pass just like a season, right? With a touch of grief, He left the world with...

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Apostle Matthew encountered... artist, dragon and gangster extraordinaire Here at 2 Highland Manor Drive Schwenksville, Pennsylvania. Actually all three people linkedin to each other courtesy Dissociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personality Disorder). Wiccan up to mystical alien way I raptly listened as she didst soothsay scanned -- din heavy yen reference about paganistic folkloric history regarding Sweden and Oslo (also) Norway. The missus dubbed aforementioned young gal "curvy girl," a...

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The first time I encountered a phoenix I was horrified when he frizzled into ashes Not realizing he was going to come back In better shape than ever I had made a friend out of him on a Saturday night We were in a speak easy, but the speaking was not easy because it was too loud So I took him...

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These are some thoughts that I've Encountered while strolling through my mind Such as why is it called a tire? When it wraps around the wheel It should be called a wheel wrap But that's just my opinion Why do ducks and geese sound different They both walk the same Quack, quack-honk, honk Waddle waddle see what I mean Why I can't...

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T'es Ou? That's all I heard for 10 minutes straight one sautéed Brussels morning in the metro with everyone, their brother, perhaps their dog peeing on my leg, or at least, it felt that way, sweat running down inside my trousers and this one woman who refused to shut up, pink phone clutched in glittery talons, cheap earrings swaying in time with her...

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