dont even jeremy. you could make this about who ever you want it to be about. funny how you posted it after that letter you wrote to everyone. it was an honest question and you know i had every right to ask that question so don't even try to trun this around... its not like i would believe you anyway...
HA. Its much fun to hear your spitfire attitude. Ah, welll. Yes I know it was an honest question. But, alas, it was not about you. It could apply though, Only it would have to have a title like.
Soul ripped out, spit on, incinerated, mixed with concret, and thrown into the abyss. that MIGHT cover it. ;-p
jeremy, we were a match made in hell from the begining and you and i both know it. and if we were made in heaven that is not the heaven i believe in because that would be a cruel place... oh look a special on drug dealers and the harm they cause tonight on discovery channel....
Stef, oh you read, but deep not does your preception view, nor remember not the words prior, for if you take that sentence complete, not in part, it do be a DREAM not reality. Alas poor soul, wrong again, trice, would that make thee. For this poem in part, be about things shared in done, but if you gaze at the poem in its entirerty, moving on, and the future are its true, moving quality.
enough from you! jay shakesphere is dead... and you do not do him justice. kind sir, that you are not. alas.. you have missed my remark and looked past (once again) that which your ears chose not to hear... you know what i ment by my state ment and i find it hurtful and ungentlemently that you ignore my cries. i will admit this though... "give me my lips the sin that they have took... good pilgarm give me my sin again..."
in shakespearian verse; (mind I am only playing the pilgrim, in past recoloections...)
oh yes, oh yes, This sin, if shared a hundred times,I would sell soul, body, and mind. If I am to die, for this heavenly sin of heart, eternitity is no price unfair. Ambrosa be your lips, and olympus your playgrounds. So intoxicated still am I by your sweet nectur, dazzled still by tresses of gold so elegantly dancing like nymphs, swooning around, dancing playful. Eyes, like sirens, call my soul, clutch at my soul, capeable, with just a glace worth eather outcome, to rise the dead, or punish worth then death. If I had to compare thee to earthly things, then Naught could I write, for even this gives thy beauty no fair measure, so stop i will, and not debase its worth, elegence, and deepen my plight.
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Soul ripped out, spit on, incinerated, mixed with concret, and thrown into the abyss.
that MIGHT cover it.
;-p
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i will admit this though... "give me my lips the sin that they have took... good pilgarm give me my sin again..."
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in shakespearian verse; (mind I am only playing the pilgrim, in past recoloections...)
oh yes, oh yes, This sin, if shared a hundred times,I would sell soul, body, and mind. If I am to die, for this heavenly sin of heart, eternitity is no price unfair. Ambrosa be your lips, and olympus your playgrounds. So intoxicated still am I by your sweet nectur, dazzled still by tresses of gold so elegantly dancing like nymphs, swooning around, dancing playful. Eyes, like sirens, call my soul, clutch at my soul, capeable, with just a glace worth eather outcome, to rise the dead, or punish worth then death.
If I had to compare thee to earthly things, then Naught could I write, for even this gives thy beauty no fair measure, so stop i will, and not debase its worth, elegence, and deepen my plight.
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