what becomes of love?

Love don't love . Am sure my dearest is not playing prank on me. When love we confess to each rantles the corridoor of my aunty's manure. My aunty should had warned but said *i seem to like her sharpness* oh what a tender mind to know what lays in love is as old as the planet. What a rubbicle of slinder love farment on the bossom of trust. Desertedly seeking not love from my dearest angel. For throb of pains wouldn't leave my heart. Pray that thumbnail of love was never birthed. Ho love anguish has disecret my bladdar, and lots shared as fun. What a primitive love man existed to uphold. Now the tentacles watchman as love become a platform of grudges. Eating from loves bewitchment reminds of its illusion. Hmmm what becomes of love?

Posted: at 7-11-2010 05:42 AM (14 years ago) | Newbie

I don call am, he no pick my call, so I send am sms.
He go soon come...

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Posted: at 7-11-2010 12:58 PM (14 years ago) | Gistmaniac