What Is A Real Pearl Worth

Mentirosa

I love to lie. Not with malice or cowardice. In fact, it would be more appropriate to say that I love to invent, which is not the same.
not tell a lie is that horrible and hold it for the rest of eternity. I can not, because generally invention ridiculous things and always tells me some salami "POSTA"?! " and I laugh, bad, like crazy. I get more laughter than the bathtub scene of panic and Madness in Las Vegas, but less than tickled.
is a pity that now has a little abandoned the habit, because he did very well. Invented absurdities with the best poker face, all I thought and felt very jerks when long laughter.
few years ago, a classmate told him that a bus trip a lady I vomited. Re believed me and I could hold up the next day, when I brought up the subject, incredulous, to tell it. It was very funny seriously.

Laser Sailboat Review

The fairies do not exist to my readers

I thought we were meant to be together
did not happen because the conjugation
the first person I
I singular idealism synonymous
Tell me how to play fairy tales?
The fairies do not exist now

You killed them (if not actually exist)
In my head there's only
questions unanswered!
Because you killed the inspiration to create verses
metrics, and absurd;
Where did that "something" than it was?
First answer me:
What was it that was? Hypocrite

Why did you leave me to live in a world of magic?
It was all a farce,
is incomprehensible to confuse love with love
routine experience with scoring
love without love, without compromise

Empty my energy Disappear
Where? No answers

Fairies are dead

But not anymore
outta this life I never want to dream about you
not my farewell, I run only in the dark but do not notice

notes a fairy never
This
Blind not a poem you Ponele gender

For me,
is the reality of all my days

-swiss K31 Rifle , Info.

dull cloudy day the light of letters,
time again cries out to be flattered,
misses the role to be cherished by the ink of the poet,
but the day is gray, dry, cold

A poet can not always write
or strain to it, the words
not always a beautiful day or a statuesque muse

or the simple fact that you exist,
reader that the poet can write

We took refuge behind the benches of oblivion, because

can not write what I write? Dime


Why write beautiful songs?
Where are you? Dear
inspiration glow of dawn

not find you, you're lost, away from my world
you're long, I only have letters
past
and beautiful image of the face of my inspiration from my angel
gone, goodbye
camouflaged by the coldness Dress Burda
society stole my angel, I

stole the inspiration time Help me, save me God
sadness in my mornings
abundant and essentially runs through my nights
There is inspiration and not her!

What shall I write?
more than the sad verses of life
This life without you, angel

not disappear even if the inspiration Leave
to rewrite the words
love once known off thousands, do not run

inspiration you need