Sitting thinking,
rose beds near...

It's more of a song than a poem. I lie. I wrote it...
Please vote. And I want honest opinions, none of...

Murderers and scoundrels
and other words not fit for here...

Poor friend are thee to me,
For 'tis as the physician fears...

Inside me something's burning,
Love hotter than the hottest sun...

Who needs Love,
all the trouble which it brings...

Oh,
we live in such a beautiful world...

Look at the wars around in this life,
look at the hunger and all of the strife...

An angel was punished one day, you see,
and came to the earth sad as could be...

Realise ye not,
that we think of you rot...

Never forget,
the pictures of the faces of so many who died...

I know a chap,
Dishonest is he...