It was this gooey glue
that never let one
seperate into two
twinses twinkling
in a display
that makes toes curl
silken petals
on a bed of thorns
that was foretold long ago
of porcelain dolls
created in a pod
that spins dream into gold
It was this gooey glue
that never let one
seperate into two
twinses twinkling
in a display
that makes toes curl
silken petals
on a bed of thorns
that was foretold long ago
of porcelain dolls
created in a pod
that spins dream into gold
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
This makes me want…. more..
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so do i. it was as if an angel spoke to me. all that remains is her smile and a need for one more refrain
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The only time an angel actually spoke to me, it was very calming and peaceful and what he said was true. I didn’t think he was any better than me, only different.
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