Poetry is part of passion and reminds of all but itself...I here take you to walk the cliff of words and lines
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Wear my self
Born a beauty
A stop ahead market crowds
A dear to painters and candy stores
Then i got the curves
Now a lady now so sad
Life behind is much the life
Masks are up smart and neat
They flirt me often and help on need
Eyes are priced smiles legs and soul
Yet never gathered
Never one
am i attractive
do you want to be me?
Samir mekkaoui
bravenet.com