Wednesday, March 20, 2019

the emerald hills shine quietly through the fog, you here the bagpipes playing, you smell the campfires burning, as you think of her. the long red hair of fire, piercing eyes of green, have taken your soul, as you think of her.. you're not sure if she is Scottish or Irish,, and neither is she, as... Sign in to see full entry.

One more time with you

Id like to have the chance, just to dance, one more time with you. To hold hands like lovers do, whisper how much I love you, ome more time with you, laugh at you silly jokes, make fun of other folks, one more time with you watch you comb your long blonde hair, laugh out loud like you don't care,... Sign in to see full entry.

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