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Self-portrait

after she paints
herself in the canvass
she puts her
signature there

mebyme.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Little Hole

Some people keep their love in a safe, then forget the combination
Some people think life's a masquerade ball, keeping up with the latest fashion
Some people sell dreams like rag magazines, on the busy fast food city street corners
Some people give, some people take, Some people share, some people fake
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people hide from the world and it’s charms, others flee from its tragedy
Some people wish for a place to call home while they kill off every living thing they see
Some people await the rapture and fate, others are simply looking for the cure
Some people lead some people follow, some people spit, some people swallow
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing

Some people search for Utopia and peace, but never seem to laugh
Some people forgot what it’s like to be young, having grown up much to fast
Some people preach salvation and hope to anyone willing to pay
Some people judge to quick, some never judge at all, some people climb, some are simply happy to fall
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people feel the mirror holds the key, to their tomorrows and prosperity
Some people are sealed off from the world by their hearts, their leaders, or their personality
Some people are like cannibals, they devour what they need and move on
Some people are criminals trying to make ends meet, steeling from others trying to make ends meet
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people feel its much more real, to chase rainbows on canvass painted skies
Some people think their shit don’t stink, some have the trust of a saint and tell lies
Some people’s minds react like a nuclear bomb, some people are one with the galaxy
Some people die as they lived, others live as they die, some never give up hope, others don’t even try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Some people wear their hearts on their sleeve, others forget what it means to be free
Some people speak of friendships and love, but don’t know what it means to be a friend
Some people search for enlightenment in the stars, in tea leaves, other find it floating in a glass
Some people smile, some people cry, some people live, some people try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Some people are afraid to take risks, or to be anything they wish until they die
Some people love the sound of their voice, some talk more than they listen
Some people don’t suffer fools only to find the jokes on them

[...] Read more

poem by Colin Coplin
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Obstacle 1

I wish I could eat the salt off of your lost faded lips
We can cap the old times, make playing only logical harm
We can cap the old lines, make playing that nothing else will change
But she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
She can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
Oh, she's bad
But it's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this face again
You go stabbing yourself in the neck
And we can find new ways of living make playing only logical harm
And we can top the old times, clay-making that nothing else will change
But she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
She can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
Oh, she's bad
It's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again
You go stabbing yourself in the neck
But it's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again
And you go stabbing yourself in the neck
It's in the way that she posed, it's in the things that she puts in my head
Her stories are boring and stuff, she's always calling my bluff
She puts, she puts the weights into my little heart
And she gets in my room and she takes it apart
She puts the weights into my little heart
I said she puts the weights into my little heart
She packs it away
It's in the way that she walks
Her heaven is never enough
She puts the weights in my heart
She puts, oh she puts the weights into my little heart

song performed by Interpol
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 7

Hail sacred Peace, who claim'st thy bright abode,
Mid circling saints that grace the throne of God.
Before his arm, around the shapeless earth,
Stretch'd the wide heavens and gave to nature birth;
Ere morning stars his glowing chambers hung,
Or songs of gladness woke an angel's tongue,
Veil'd in the brightness of the Almighty's mind,
In blest repose thy placid form reclined;
Borne through the heavens with his creating voice,
Thy presence bade the unfolding worlds rejoice,
Gave to seraphic harps their sounding lays,
Their joys to angels, and to men their praise.
From scenes of blood, these beauteous shores that stain,
From gasping friends that press the sanguine plain,
From fields, long taught in vain thy flight to mourn,
I rise, delightful Power, and greet thy glad return.
Too long the groans of death, and battle's bray
Have rung discordant through the unpleasing lay:
Let pity's tear its balmy fragrance shed,
O'er heroes' wounds and patriot warriors dead;
Accept, departed Shades, these grateful sighs,
Your fond attendants to the approving skies.
And thou, my earliest friend, my Brother dear,
Thy fall untimely wakes the tender tear.
In youthful sports, in toils, in blood allied,
My kind companion and my hopeful guide,
When Heaven's sad summons, from our infant eyes
Had call'd our last, loved parent to the skies.
Tho' young in arms, and still obscure thy name,
Thy bosom panted for the deeds of fame,
Beneath Montgomery's eye, when, by thy steel,
In northern wilds, the lurking savage fell.
'Yet, hapless youth! when thy great leader bled,
Thro' the same wound thy parting spirit fled.
But now the untuneful trump shall grate no more,
Ye silver streams, no longer swell with gore;
Bear from your beauteous banks the crimson stain,
With yon retiring navies to the main.
While other views, unfolding on my eyes,
And happier themes bid bolder numbers rise.
Bring, bounteous Peace, in thy celestial throng
Life to my soul, and rapture to my song;
Give me to trace, with pure unclouded ray,
The arts and virtues that attend thy sway;
To see thy blissful charms, that here descend,
Through distant realms and endless years extend.
To cast new glories o'er the changing clime,
The Seraph now reversed the flight of time;
Roll'd back the years, that led their course before,
And stretch'd immense the wild uncultured shore;

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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King Is White & In The Crowd

Talking by the pool of light, language from america.
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say no, say no tapestry
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
She takes his hand and she says youll stay
Shes lost in the crowd
King
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Lovers run camp africa, bars in town are civilised
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Panorama, citylife
Youths dance proud from the waist down
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Shot from where the action is, a rhapsody in black and blue
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Love lies under western eyes, powerful yet transient
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Words & music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission

song performed by Simple Minds
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King Is White And In The Crowd

Talking by the pool of light, language from Americ.
a
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say no, say no tapestry
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
She takes his hand and she says you'll stay
She's lost in the crowd
King
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Lovers run camp Africa, Bars in town are civilised
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Panorama, Citylife
Youth's dance proud from the waist down
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Shot from where the action is, a rhapsody in black and blue
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Love lies under western eyes, powerful yet transient
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd

song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Columbiad: Book VIII

The Argument

Hymn to Peace. Eulogy on the heroes slain in the war; in which the Author finds occasion to mention his Brother. Address to the patriots who have survived the conflict; exhorting them to preserve liberty they have established. The danger of losing it by inattention illustrated in the rape of the Golden Fleece. Freedom succeeding to Despotism in the moral world, like Order succeeding to Chaos in the physical world. Atlas, the guardian Genius of Africa, denounces to Hesper the crimes of his people in the slavery of the Afripans. The Author addresses his countrymen on that subject, and on the principles of their government.

Hesper, recurring to his object of showing Columbus the importance of his discoveries, reverses the order of time, and exhibits the continent again in its savage state. He then displays the progress of arts in America. Fur-trade. Fisheries. Productions. Commerce. Education. Philosophical discoveries. Painting. Poetry.

Hail, holy Peace, from thy sublime abode
Mid circling saints that grace the throne of God!
Before his arm around our embryon earth
Stretch'd the dim void, and gave to nature birth.
Ere morning stars his glowing chambers hung,
Or songs of gladness woke an angel's tongue,
Veil'd in the splendors of his beamful mind,
In blest repose thy placid form reclined,
Lived in his life, his inward sapience caught,
And traced and toned his universe of thought.
Borne thro the expanse with his creating voice
Thy presence bade the unfolding worlds rejoice,
Led forth the systems on their bright career,
Shaped all their curves and fashion'd every sphere,
Spaced out their suns, and round each radiant goal,
Orb over orb, compell'd their train to roll,
Bade heaven's own harmony their force combine.
Taught all their host symphonious strains to join,
Gave to seraphic harps their sounding lays,
Their joys to angels, and to men their praise.

From scenes of blood, these verdant shores that stain,
From numerous friends in recent battle slain,
From blazing towns that scorch the purple sky,
From houseless hordes their smoking walls that fly,
From the black prison ships, those groaning graves,
From warring fleets that vex the gory waves,
From a storm'd world, long taught thy flight to mourn,
I rise, delightful Peace, and greet thy glad return.

For now the untuneful trump shall grate no more;
Ye silver streams, no longer swell with gore,
Bear from your war-beat banks the guilty stain
With yon retiring navies to the main.
While other views, unfolding on my eyes,
And happier themes bid bolder numbers rise;
Bring, bounteous Peace, in thy celestial throng.
Life to my soul, and rapture to my song;
Give me to trace, with pure unclouded ray,
The arts and virtues that attend thy sway,
To see thy blissful charms, that here descend,
Thro distant realms and endless years extend.

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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An Artist

An artist paints with brush so old
Makes his painting worth gold
He paints the nature's gifted gifts
The flowing rivers in the midst
Of all he paints is a pretty face
A girl dressed all in lace
Portraying her beauty he is lost in time
The beauty she possessed is hard to find
Was it her beauty he tried to captivate?
But what a pity time doesn't wait
For she has gone so far away
Leaving her image with the artist to stay
Who paints her all through day and night?
Seeking pleasure deep inside

poem by Meena Mustafa
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Paints Life Theme Canvas

research scientist
paints water colours
paints poetry brush strokes

paints poetry beaker pigment
paints life theme canvas
research insistent

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Earth Safe

Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Death paints darkness at noon
Sun shines sky so bright
Death paints darkness at noon
unkind eyes dark so blind
Volcanoes erupt, whirl winds kill
Towers collapse thousands peril
Terrors kill, humans destroy
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Rivers flow, Oceans flow
Nature green, universe calm
Earth safe, safer than ever....

September 4,2008

poem by Rema Prasanaa
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July Paints of Winter

July paints masterpieces
kissing my canvas with lively breezy strokes
July paints what she sees
adding intrigue to yellow folks
She paints a cold numbing winter
adding icicles on Christchurch trees
She paints a briskly Tasman salty sea
Sitting at a window overlooking her muse
July can't see colour til summer’s shines it's hues

poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
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Don't Talk Back

Well it's half my heart and a little bit of soul
That makes me feel I've gotta ride this road
I wouldn't change it if I could
And me and this road you
You know we've got an understanding
It won't leave me at home and I am
Too tired to do just what I should
And last night I asked if I could
Take comfort in the rosewood
The road said nothing at all
Well cos it don't talk back unless the wind blows hard
I drive it all night with the wheel of my car
It won't leave me running for the door
And if the paints still wet I can just slow down
And it all goes away on the other side of town
And nothing is that easy anymore

Well the hurt won't leave with the sight of white line
But it eases up my pain for a while
The only habit that I keep
And miles take time but the time is mine
And always moving suits me fine
I'll catch my breath when I sleep
And after all that I've done
I'm not half what I'd hope that I'd become
There's still along way to go

Well cos it don't talk back unless the wind blows hard
I drive it all night with the wheel of my car
It won't leave me running for the door
And if the paints still wet I can just slow down
And it all goes away on the other side of town
And nothing is that easy anymore

And last night I asked if I could
Take comfort in the rosewood
The road said nothing at all

Well cos it don't talk back unless the wind blows hard
I drive it all night with the wheel of my car
It won't leave me running for the door
And if the paints still wet I can just slow down
And it all goes away on the other side of town
And nothing is that easy anymore

Yeah cos it don't talk back unless the wind blows hard
I drive it all night with the wheel of my car
It won't leave me running for the door
And if the paints still wet I can just slow down
And it all goes away on the other side of town

[...] Read more

song performed by Kasey Chambers from The Captain
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Wrapped In Grey

Some folks see the world as a stone
Concrete daubed in dull monotone
Your heart is the big box of paints
And others, the canvas were dealt
Your heart is the big box of paints
How coloured the flowers all smelled
As they huddled there, in petalled prayer
They told me this, as I knelt there
Awaken you dreamers
Adrift in your beds
Balloons and streamers
Decorate the inside of your heads
Please let some out
Do it today
But dont let the loveless ones sell you
A world wrapped in grey
Some folks pull this life like a weight
Drab and dragging dreams made of slate
Your heart is the big box of paints
And others, the canvas were dealt
Your heart is the big box of paints
Just think how the old masters felt, they call...
Awaken you dreamers
Asleep at your desks
Parrots and lemurs
Populate your unconscious grotesques
Please let some out
Do it today
Dont let the loveless ones sell you
A world wrapped in grey
And in the very least you can
Stand up naked and
Grin

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wrapped In Grey

Some folks see the world as a stone
Concrete daubed in dull monotone
Your heart is the big box of paints
And others, the canvas were dealt
Your heart is the big box of paints
How coloured the flowers all smelled
As they huddled there, in petalled prayer
They told me this, as I knelt there
Awaken you dreamers
Adrift in your beds
Balloons and streamers
Decorate the inside of your heads
Please let some out
Do it today
But dont let the loveless ones sell you
A world wrapped in grey
Some folks pull this life like a weight
Drab and dragging dreams made of slate
Your heart is the big box of paints
And others, the canvas were dealt
Your heart is the big box of paints
Just think how the old masters felt, they call...
Awaken you dreamers
Asleep at your desks
Parrots and lemurs
Populate your unconscious grotesques
Please let some out
Do it today
Dont let the loveless ones sell you
A world wrapped in grey
And in the very least you can
Stand up naked and
Grin

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nature Paints

Nature Paints

Nature paints the sky in blue,
Then adds the fluffy spots of white
Which sometimes hide the fuel
Of fiery sphere - light
A relief that gives a gracious smile

Nature paints the high mountains green
An emerald of an incline climb
Extending stairway to heavenly dreams,
The peak is in a target's reach

Our nature paints the dark stained soil
A symbol for our hard day's toil
What in its core does treasure hides?
Seek the rainbow you will find
All colors that our artist binds

Copyright © 2012

poem by Godfrey Morris
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Solomon

As thro' the Psalms from theme to theme I chang'd,
Methinks like Eve in Paradice I rang'd;
And ev'ry grace of song I seem'd to see,
As the gay pride of ev'ry season, she.
She gently treading all the walks around,
Admir'd the springing beauties of the ground,
The lilly glist'ring with the morning dew,
The rose in red, the violet in blew,
The pink in pale, the bells in purple rows,
And tulips colour'd in a thousand shows:
Then here and there perhaps she pull'd a flow'r
To strew with moss, and paint her leafy bow'r;
And here and there, like her I went along,
Chose a bright strain, and bid it deck my song.

But now the sacred Singer leaves mine eye,
Crown'd as he was, I think he mounts on high;
Ere this Devotion bore his heav'nly psalms,
And now himself bears up his harp and palms.
Go, saint triumphant, leave the changing sight,
So fitted out, you suit the realms of light;
But let thy glorious robe at parting go,
Those realms have robes of more effulgent show;
It flies, it falls, the flutt'ring silk I see,
Thy son has caught it and he sings like thee,
With such election of a theme divine,
And such sweet grace, as conquers all but thine.

Hence, ev'ry writer o'er the fabled streams,
Where frolick fancies sport with idle dreams,
Or round the sight enchanted clouds dispose,
Whence wanton cupids shoot with gilded bows;
A nobler writer, strains more brightly wrought,
Themes more exulted, fill my wond'ring thought:
The parted skies are track'd with flames above,
As love descends to meet ascending love;
The seasons flourish where the spouses meet,
And earth in gardens spreads beneath their feet.
This fresh-bloom prospect in the bosom throngs,
When Solomon begins his song of songs,
Bids the rap'd soul to Lebanon repair,
And lays the scenes of all his action there,
Where as he wrote, and from the bow'r survey'd
The scenting groves, or answ'ring knots he made,
His sacred art the sights of nature brings,
Beyond their use, to figure heav'nly things.

Great son of God! whose gospel pleas'd to throw
Round thy rich glory, veils of earthly show,
Who made the vineyard oft thy church design,

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Parnell
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Used To Love Him

The times were goin' boom and boom and bust
My feet of clay, they've dried to dust
But it isn't the red we painted,
It's... just... rust
That signature thing that used to bring a following
I have trouble now, even remembering
So why did I kiss him so hard late last friday night
And keep on letting him change all my plans
I'm either so sick in the head
I need to be bled dry to quit
Or I just really used to love him
I sure hope that's it
To keep in touch would do me whooping dutch
'Cause it isn't the rush of remembering, it's just lush
And that signature thing is only growing harrowing
I should have no trouble now to keep from following
So why did I kiss him so hard late last friday night
And keep on letting him change all my plans
I'm either so sick in the head
I need to be bled dry to quit
Or I just really used to love him
I sure hope that's it
Sometimes
When I bust my feet of clay, they dried to dust
That what isn't the red we painted
It's... just... rust
That signature thing that used to bring a following
I have trouble now, even remembering
So why did I kiss him so hard late last friday night
And keep on letting him change all my plans
I'm either so sick in the head
I need to be bled dry to quit
Or I just really used to love him
Or I just really used to love him
Or I just really used to love him
I sure hope that's it
ll

song performed by Fiona Apple
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Columbiad: Book I

The Argument

Natives of America appear in vision. Their manners and characters. Columbus demands the cause of the dissimilarity of men in different countries, Hesper replies, That the human body is composed of a due proportion of the elements suited to the place of its first formation; that these elements, differently proportioned, produce all the changes of health, sickness, growth and decay; and may likewise produce any other changes which occasion the diversity of men; that these elemental proportions are varied, not more by climate than temperature and other local circumstances; that the mind is likewise in a state of change, and will take its physical character from the body and from external objects: examples. Inquiry concerning the first peopling of America. View of Mexico. Its destruction by Cortez. View of Cusco and Quito, cities of Peru. Tradition of Capac and Oella, founders of the Peruvian empire. Columbus inquires into their real history. Hesper gives an account of their origin, and relates the stratagems they used in establishing that empire.

I sing the Mariner who first unfurl'd
An eastern banner o'er the western world,
And taught mankind where future empires lay
In these fair confines of descending day;
Who sway'd a moment, with vicarious power,
Iberia's sceptre on the new found shore,
Then saw the paths his virtuous steps had trod
Pursued by avarice and defiled with blood,
The tribes he foster'd with paternal toil
Snatch'd from his hand, and slaughter'd for their spoil.

Slaves, kings, adventurers, envious of his name,
Enjoy'd his labours and purloin'd his fame,
And gave the Viceroy, from his high seat hurl'd.
Chains for a crown, a prison for a world
Long overwhelm'd in woes, and sickening there,
He met the slow still march of black despair,
Sought the last refuge from his hopeless doom,
And wish'd from thankless men a peaceful tomb:
Till vision'd ages, opening on his eyes,
Cheer'd his sad soul, and bade new nations rise;
He saw the Atlantic heaven with light o'ercast,
And Freedom crown his glorious work at last.

Almighty Freedom! give my venturous song
The force, the charm that to thy voice belong;
Tis thine to shape my course, to light my way,
To nerve my country with the patriot lay,
To teach all men where all their interest lies,
How rulers may be just and nations wise:
Strong in thy strength I bend no suppliant knee,
Invoke no miracle, no Muse but thee.

Night held on old Castile her silent reign,
Her half orb'd moon declining to the main;
O'er Valladolid's regal turrets hazed
The drizzly fogs from dull Pisuerga raised;
Whose hovering sheets, along the welkin driven,
Thinn'd the pale stars, and shut the eye from heaven.
Cold-hearted Ferdinand his pillow prest,
Nor dream'd of those his mandates robb'd of rest,
Of him who gemm'd his crown, who stretch'd his reign
To realms that weigh'd the tenfold poise of Spain;
Who now beneath his tower indungeon'd lies,
Sweats the chill sod and breathes inclement skies.

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Sweetness

She brings the sunshine to a rainy afternoon;
She puts the sweetness in, stirs it with a spoon.
She watches for my moods, never brings me down;
She puts the sweetness in, all around.
She knows just what to say to make me feel so good inside.
And when Im all alone I feel I dont want to hide, hide, hide.
Today she brought me in, told me where shed been;
She put my mind at rest, put the sweetness in.
Ill ask her for some time to go and look around;
She puts the sweetness in with a sound.
She knows just what to say to make a sunny day.
And when Im all alone I really dont feel that way.
Tell me, how would you feel with no world
Of your own and nobody to hold?
I just cant see the way; Im so glad its today
And youre here, youre here.
She brings the sunshine to a rainy afternoon;
She puts the sweetness in, stirs it with a spoon.
She watches for my moods, never brings me down;
She puts the sweetness in, all around.
She knows just what to say to make me feel so good inside.
And when Im all alone I really dont feel that way.
Oh how I need her so,
I know shell never go. doo doo doo doot n doo.
Shell never leave me, believe me, no. doo doo doo doot n doo.
Shell never go, no no no no no no no no no no no no.

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sweetness

She brings the sunshine to a rainy afternoon;
She puts the sweetness in, stirs it with a spoon.
She watches for my moods, never brings me down;
She puts the sweetness in, all around.
She knows just what to say to make me feel so good inside.
And when Im all alone I feel I dont want to hide, hide, hide.
Today she brought me in, told me where shed been;
She put my mind at rest, put the sweetness in.
Ill ask her for some time to go and look around;
She puts the sweetness in with a sound.
She knows just what to say to make a sunny day.
And when Im all alone I really dont feel that way.
Tell me, how would you feel with no world
Of your own and nobody to hold?
I just cant see the way; Im so glad its today
And youre here, youre here.
She brings the sunshine to a rainy afternoon;
She puts the sweetness in, stirs it with a spoon.
She watches for my moods, never brings me down;
She puts the sweetness in, all around.
She knows just what to say to make me feel so good inside.
And when Im all alone I really dont feel that way.
Oh how I need her so,
I know shell never go. doo doo doo doot n doo.
Shell never leave me, believe me, no. doo doo doo doot n doo.
Shell never go, no no no no no no no no no no no no.

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Standing Next To You

Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.

Keep me from saving face.
Admitting a terrible mistake that I have made.
To everything and everyone.
Why it can't be a simple dream?
One that you can simply grab out and reach.
And the one standing next to you.
Please guide me to where it is we're suppose go.
Because I just don't know yet if I am going make it.

Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.

Let the existence be true.
Please don't let it fall through.
With hope as my prayer.
Let it take wings.
In place I've never seen and probably will never be.
For a too large a distance divides.
An impenetrable barrier resides.
Only my voice survives.
It glides through a sequence of mazes.
Sometimes I think something gets lost in the translation.
But one way or another.

Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.

Its not any ones fault and I don't blame any of you.
I'll do what is needed.
Not because I have to.
Or in anyway need to.
Without reluctance sometimes still choices are made.
Living among life without life.
The body breaths but does it move.

Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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