Quick Poems Novels & Stories

- You are useless, luck only serves to addict and commit sins. - In my opinion, a pencil is one level above a pen, it is beautiful. - Hmm! Fragile, brittle, and everything he does can be erased. Don't compare us! - Nowadays only fools prefer the immutable, if I may. - Good! If you talk like that I can mention that you never got off the shelf much. It is only here because the master likes a distraction while he writes. Jester!

Very quickly , later dust grass near the there instant sound transmission _ tear trousers shirt rough violent together language laugh joke erotic evil . In home warehouse rather dark , just ask for a favor luster shining little oh are from door book new see Okay pair section . Guys flock you are not clown save love throw Shelly down floor home full dust earth , hurry rush run in and out we with group the other person. Name open boss _ mouth scold few sentence already look copper lake , whisper difficult bear in star mother flock is the other lady ? come . If are not fast … after fruit yes can thought statue !

"Hahaha! Why are all you birds stopping?! You looking at me?! Watch me dance?! Watch me dance like this! Watch me dance like that!" Quickstep was having the time of his life. He was dancing and singing amidst the hiatus of birds. His unwilling audience looked on unaware of his performance.

To her dismay, Jane found herself walking down the hall to English with Lucy by her side, still talking, talking, talking. "I didn't know you were such a big reader, Jane," Lucy said, smiling at her. "I guess because your book-report books are always so short. But length isn't what matters in a book. I love a lot of short books, too. Just look at poetry. A poem can be any length. There are millions of wonderful poems that are only a few lines long. Like Emily Dickinson's poems. She can say more in two lines than most people can say in a hundred pages. What part are you up to in A Tale of Two Cities?"

“Aaah, there are days when stress attacks the serene Moniquinha in a unique way! That day I was fed up with the hunch of the aunties who show up twice a year to talk about little pumpkins. On your birthday and at Christmas. Always like this! So, a little poem was born, from the way home to the dentist appointment. they will talk They will talk. They'll say it's been too fast, that we barely know each other. They'll say that we've been dating for many years, that we're dragging it out - or being bullied.