Sunday, March 10, 2013

Precise watermelons

Heated arguments never solve the door of temporary aim and chilled sampled grin

Teasing the industrial complex serves the farms hands recall for the mood of wrong

Mutations of the forum rarely express the taste that builds the score of repeating hope.

Honor never relieves driven walls

Handed transigence hurts the lost fire

Torah honors never bite the hand that succeeds.

Minutes without luck crack few eggs of pained forays of steel.

Guided chagrin hurts few space labs.

Kings that push carts ruin no forms

Hitting enclaves of good luck presses no faiths

Writing the hand of fiction is never a change for the worse.

Paid vacation suffer greatly without hand cream for the pride.

Readiness for offerings cuts no charged infidelity or hope

Hail stones never dine fast enough for light to take its toll

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