My beloved, a shore of love passes through me
“It is the end of the world," someone chokes; there is a lull. Stockpiling food for twenty years and toilet paper rolls
Little Willie was afraid of mice; He laid in bed nearly suffice, His head on the pillow felt oddly flat, As it was actually an obese New York rat.
I wanted to smack you in the head with my math book, But that smile made me take another look. Maybe I’d hit your friend.