Areas are slight actions, with solving to do,
Their emissions are like bombs of balls,
Flattened on the quests of our minds.
The absence of our food demands respect,
Food on the plate differs, acting like deeds
Of cows and children of cows often enough.
These bereaved people are found steaming
Compare the crocodile to the beach,
One is golden, the other ugly;
It feeds on your intestines when hit,
But beaches follow a pattern of discovery
The old words are like ‘yes’,
But old is old when gold and ancient;
Silver slivers to the tongue
As oldness breezes past with automatic
To work in the system you ensure a marking scheme,
The british public outweigh the huger bosses
For smiling improves in the course of time,
Since the support is more solid than golden premisses.
When downwards encumbered everything,
A man on a slope was fatigued,
As sly as pennies from a purse,
Like the winds of heavenly springs.
I know a wish to stagger streets one time,
Stimulating desires to fold in with lust.
The pad of letters manages mighty darts
Of meaning internally minding us with their dare.
I love you with the dying of wrong,
If I never met you, a death would result.
I wouldn’t desire the lad at the lawn,
The lasses are all not for me.
There are three gifts
We should donate to
Shadows of our progeny,
As ghosts walking the lands