deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Gift in my Bonat
Black avi's of dark people
I've got one in my awesome gallery
The latest of my works,
Her sad moments still got beautiful grins
Smiles like that of my lil sister
Maybe the heart of a villain will go soft when it takes a look at this painting
Young heart, with innocence of an infant.
Pets around like the sticks of a fragile cat.
I barely spent a minute on this avi, and it was glowing already.
My longterm crush could have lost a paycut
Voice, angelic like a whole host combined in a gong
It's visible on my painting
I saw her running towards me, then she got her breaks on.
From approach, I saw her rears flashed at me.
I wandered what happened, Her innocence was loud enough.
Shhhh, listen to her lovely looks on my painting.
Watch her angelic voice on the gong she's got.
I like her, though it will be self centered to prefer my painting to none other.
But I'd rather get it the ill way.
She will never know I foresaw her dimples coming, though she complains they are one sided.
She made a plea of a mosaic heart, I failed her dearly.
Maybe I'm knitting a mat of love beneath her chest.
I'll be so most excited if this painting sailed me to the world.
Maybe time is a glock that clocks in tick tacks
Everything comes to know its fate as it drives by.
My painting is the most precious Gift I've got lately.
I present me a Gift, though its 'Bonat'.
But like a pyrate or a gentleman I'll snatch it if fate gives me the right.
I've got one in my awesome gallery
The latest of my works,
Her sad moments still got beautiful grins
Smiles like that of my lil sister
Maybe the heart of a villain will go soft when it takes a look at this painting
Young heart, with innocence of an infant.
Pets around like the sticks of a fragile cat.
I barely spent a minute on this avi, and it was glowing already.
My longterm crush could have lost a paycut
Voice, angelic like a whole host combined in a gong
It's visible on my painting
I saw her running towards me, then she got her breaks on.
From approach, I saw her rears flashed at me.
I wandered what happened, Her innocence was loud enough.
Shhhh, listen to her lovely looks on my painting.
Watch her angelic voice on the gong she's got.
I like her, though it will be self centered to prefer my painting to none other.
But I'd rather get it the ill way.
She will never know I foresaw her dimples coming, though she complains they are one sided.
She made a plea of a mosaic heart, I failed her dearly.
Maybe I'm knitting a mat of love beneath her chest.
I'll be so most excited if this painting sailed me to the world.
Maybe time is a glock that clocks in tick tacks
Everything comes to know its fate as it drives by.
My painting is the most precious Gift I've got lately.
I present me a Gift, though its 'Bonat'.
But like a pyrate or a gentleman I'll snatch it if fate gives me the right.
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