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Sunset lover Is what the men call her Goddess of fertility Is what the god of the sun calls her He watches her every sunrise, and sunset
wandering through streets window shopping up and down what a luxury beautiful buildings young and old, they surround me cause me to wonder the golden sun sets
The black device in my hands, Clicks and shutters with each snap. It sees the world for what it truly is, A still of beauty entrapped.
As I watch the setting sun I think of how our end will come Will we go unnoticed, forgotten in silence? Or will we go in history, like the greatest stories? We battled and fought, for this future we sought.
...And oh, he's pretty. But he's pretty the way sunsets are pretty because the thing that makes them so pretty is the very pollution that fills your lungs with poison,
I lay in bed, waiting for that bliss moment to be taken away from reality, and into my deepest desires 1, 2, 3... I'm gone. I enter my imagination. I'm in utopia; there are no laws,
Majority of the world is seen in black and white.You look around and see the same consistent colors everywhere, everyday.The one that simultaniously takes my breath away and give me life is the one that comes at the end of every day.
Each and every second is unique. Like fingerprints and sunsets, they are never the same. Each moment is its own. Everytime the clock moves its hand the present becomes past and,
A pop of color, A shimmer of light, That is all you need To feel a little less trite. A hint of pink, A bit of blue, Paint your canvas, oh sky, This is your venue. I see that dragon,
Wealth is not relevant at the sunsets The sunset is not a place The sunset is a happiness that can only be dream Or is it? The sunset is a sense of security because you know the sunset will lead you to dreams
The sun may set on my summer time, but the smiles stay through school. Yes, the busywork May last too long and the hours pass too slow. But somewhere here I'll find a laugh
Sunsets are filled with laughter & beauty. The music of summer plays until dawn. Have fun for three months, what a duty. Ms.. Burgeu, next door, is the definition of moody
I don't know Where I'm going Feeling lost Feeling gone Searching For hope For a path For a hand To lead me Pull me Guide me To a place To a home
The sun rolls down the crested hill, The light, it follows after. The clouds drift by as sandy dunes, The sky, it echoes laughter Of days well spent and friends well made, Of quests before and yon.