S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind,
With a heavy heart and a wandering mind,
Have known three centuries, poets sing,
Of dalliance with a demon thing.
GIFT from the cold and silent Past!
THE pleasant isle of Rügen looks the Baltic water o'er,
To the silver-sanded beaches of the Pomeranian shore;
And in the town of Rambin a little boy and maid
Prepared to ridicule himself, this fool
Is guarded against the jibes
Of those he thinks less inclined to self-criticism.
How then is he to gauge his faults
Listen my children and you shall hear,
The life story of Taylor Swift loud and clear.
How she touched the hearts of many,
With her amazing songs plenty.
Night is fallen
and the single star writing in the heavens
i grew up with the promises
sweet, golden, yet never fulfilled
i worked the meaneal jobs for livin wages, only there wasnt much to live on, merely exist
from sad ghetto windows
His time and wealth all there
For him, possessed just to enjoy
But hunting was a pleasure where
His shooting skills he could employ.
I walk beside him
Scared to death.
I smile trying not to show it.
He smirks back.
Jill's a good kid who's had some tough luck. But that's
another story. It's a day when the smell of fish from Tib's hash
house is so strong you could build a garage on it. We are sit-
ting in Izzy's where Carl has just built us a couple of solid