By: Romeo Ratilla, Jr.
I am blithe for I am a fled. A dream of a canary bird. Lustrous dew of sad tears she shed, For she dreamt of an irony.
In the perch of her masters hand, She use to dwell her life in cage Not in azure above the land, Empyrean! Her true abode.
Worry no more mine canary. Here art seeds that will make thee full, And water for thee is thirsty. After thee is done, thee must burp.
I no want food, it is futile! I want to flee! I want to flee! Dwelling in this cage makes me ill. Loud cry of the poor little bird.
About the Author:
Visit my webpage, it will be updated soon. www.romeoratilla.tk
Source: www.isnare.com
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I am blithe for I am a fled. A dream of a canary bird. Lustrous dew of sad tears she shed, For she dreamt of an irony.
In the perch of her masters hand, She use to dwell her life in cage Not in azure above the land, Empyrean! Her true abode.
Worry no more mine canary. Here art seeds that will make thee full, And water for thee is thirsty. After thee is done, thee must burp.
I no want food, it is futile! I want to flee! I want to flee! Dwelling in this cage makes me ill. Loud cry of the poor little bird.
About the Author:
Visit my webpage, it will be updated soon. www.romeoratilla.tk
Source: www.isnare.com
-- Click Here for More Topics --