Tuesday, July 29, 2008

38, Satan tugged at my arms

Satan tugged at my arms
he said he would give me sheep with dots
i stooped to move stones
to try to save the dying ideal

God decide the destinies by lot
the widow is good at calculating on an abacus
she was in sweat several times

the boastful nabs
makes whose daughter get a lovesick
someone is jealous in the corner of wall
speaks some sarcastic remarks to embolden himself
the shabby world cannot produce one pound of good meat
conscience is too cruel,
make up a gentleman so that cannot recognize his original appearance

i am not a walking staff for the elderly
neither the king of Morocco
the burning meteor ignited the

Satan tugged at my arms
he said he would give me sheep with dots
i stooped to move stones
to try to save the dying ideal

God decide the destinies by lot
the widow is good at calculating on an abacus
she was in sweat several times

the boastful nabs
makes whose daughter get a lovesick
someone is jealous in the corner of wall
speaks some sarcastic remarks to embolden himself
the shabby world cannot produce one pound of good meat
conscience is too cruel,
make up a gentleman so that cannot recognize his original appearance

i am not a walking staff for the elderly
neither the king of Morocco
the burning meteor ignited the captious eyes

i tugged at Satan's arms
in order to get the golden fleece
live in Wills Island

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