When the itch became a scratchy!A Poem by andrew mitchell
As love’s song
was plucked from the mind played in chords that aroused the heart pulling on its strings; the free fall of loves serenade had the soft melodies embrace your skin, the chorus permeate your heart fondly as the clouds of bliss reigned with every note placed on your body in harmony. Well! That was until.... You scratched the record! © 2017 andrew mitchell |
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Added on December 19, 2017 Last Updated on December 19, 2017 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |

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