Daily good poem | little girl

2022-05-31 0 By

Miss son/blue ice, this is a what kind of story? I have a huge curiosity makes air suspension, quietly watching how dust fall so happy, not painful recently put a lot of fugitive dust is past don’t want to limit myself in a huge directional occasionally I want to be a card into a certain time and verbal memory as a book,I sit on the moon like a red fox that grasps a star and swing awake to sleep the night Forgive yourself, do not grieve as forgive the one you love the most hide her into the velvet night love is so soft,Have a city without walls so time, miss you never waste/blue ice live into the cage of the night made a lot of worthless recalled my fishing ground silver dirty water in the pond, and dirty I just change myself again and again during the day the moon’s clumsy no longer sit ever deeper last night, I am eager to embrace imagine women talk ideal off the night also does not cover the beautiful ketone body of light and said to them,Stop writing about useless people but I want to be useless people you don’t know,How difficult it is to be a useless person! The bad text of the poem/blue ice When the poetry came, the words deliberately avoided the reality, like a beautiful object to be built to fill more nihility imagination, but your wild brain failed to live up to the thing itself, stained the dusty romance all the way, and made those empty words so big really seem very false.Very fake your spiritual dirt cannot support the barren of words as this is the root of body odor as a nine bag you elders to show off their wealth in a gai said dragon 18 zhangs can only rely on family work and you love the east ShiZheng smelling sweet beauty does not take a bath also wear other people’s clothes are called the wrong shakotan coast/blue ice for poetry, you’ve been disease not light, sit a club,In despair you condemnation in useless to name search for the divine sacrifice for all kinds of the sky will be in danger of a pointer to a burst of transparent ice condensation on the cicada was heavy, we don’t enter the era of history is to go before she cracked as you are not understand the mystery of the seal pot we call this mission in the future from marginal to the infinite possibility of judah and you join usLike the stars in the dark to polish his eyes mother wen you hair glisten a shiny silver/blue ice mother never wake up at the end of the life waiting for the night I found you worry about your tomorrow’s sun bright smile like a child was looking back to the light of life, the more the longer I in your head one number since my first cry from eyes were stripped of the scales I collected from the sand and bone graft firefly worry about at nightForget to learn more exciting content, come to read and sleep culture, read and sleep poetry club, poetry son