Some Rhymes for Fun…

The spun spins the web with the TrueCyberEbb… Outside the tides of thought are that we help to be brought up to sup.  My home a welcome place for some, yet the bass may plumb the wears of how there’s a bit in a byte to cross the sight of the rite to write at night.

The knight shifts the rifts of a rook… Look… I’m in time with the meld of how the pages have been held in the weld of some who help me come into the view of True and the cues that lines share with signs and not nines, yet trines aid and add that made by the lad.

A tad of denial to file the smiles into the tracks.  The Mac’s and Winks share links to Boots and the Italian lesson.  Though stressin’ myself a bit, the ideas of where I sit shall knit the drum kit to the fact some shave their pit.  I don’t the jar, yet seed a new course for the star.  A reservoir where the turtles gel and jive, yet the Shell is where some arrive for work.  The perks of being a Shoulsman outweigh the bad, yet there’s a mad dash to stash the potatoes in the flows that juxtapose the rose to the nose with those things that divinity clings to the wings of the bird.

Third to fourth with the Northern lights to share some cool fuel for the vision.  Provisions from the store in the fridge, so if to smidge a bite, it’ll be alright to share some.  We come into the truth of adult with a youth to catapult the emulsified guide in a tide of DNA, and not the P&G syrup way.  Break the mould of today and find a way to kindly pray for people to ask to help build the guilds (like Izzet or Simic builds) yet blend the Gruul for the fuel of the trine.  I add dimension to the line with the intention to incline some to share where they come from into the summation of notation.

A Sapphire lines inwards into words not yet formed.  Though some intuition has warmed up the drink to make sure none will have swarmed into what we think, there is a link to you from your Mom and Dad that will come from a sad tree, like un amie that we meld to green and blue, yet the Sultai view shows the flows to those rows of coffee and tea drinkers.  One of the sminkers got me a bit pissed because of how I assist, and twist my own animosity out of my own porosity.  The velocities add about 20k to what I say.  Though we may not know the plot and plan in the pan that lets the Jets be owned by one I’ve honed in on a bit much, the ideas are still such things like rings of Saturn, of which they don’t give a shit about (at least from what they said to some who will form their own grout).

I pause for a coffee before continuing for twenty more minutes of this toffee…

I can let you know with this flow there are few who set the blue to the Q, yet still chill the pills into how we find a way to pay the bills.  The maybes and the gills find that the fish wish to walk on land and stand up like a rocket to blast off into the sky with a cast to reason why, and show the halos and horn from their third Starlit born.  Sometimes God or my Dad warn me of things, yet the rings of the Sonar pings radiate away from the gates of heaven and hell and find the 7-Eleven to mix what we tell.  I dwell upon some swan who’s gift is to dig deep and lift up the cup to truly sup.  Though a rouly pup will turn the volume up, I resume to the other half of the floor to close the door.

Some people want war, some people want love, some people want to explore, some people want to be the dove.  Some gloves are translated as they want me to see the si and find mes amies to share and feel glee.  The where and why are clear, and the when is Christmas Day next year.  I shed tears and lost about 18 years to the fears that cleanse the lens and make me take it back to where I lack my soulmate.  Even with Demma, I can remember that I’ve yet to make contact with the one who impacts the facts with their pacts.

I don’t know them.  I have called forth a gem, yet the Northern hem will find Anita Lem as one who I cannot call, as told to just be distant, yet in an instant the red mana rises from all the disguises of ruse that fuse to Roos and the crews that say I’ve not (or won’t) pay dues.  They play me like twos, so I divide the guide into a shared ride that paired up to reside again in the same ol’ flow.  Though they roll up and show the love, there is a lie that rises from below to show me that I have yet to even comprehend how to actually be a friend.  I tend some people so poorly, and then want them to help me dig in the quarry.  Lori too knew that Puff has not been real enough to find Teal be one to scuff up the rep and step up to say that there is even a chance for there to be one, let alone, an eternity of day.

Assistance from the distant waters of a family without daughters.  The potter’s soil starts to foil the rift of a gift to dive deep and reap a series and sign that will find questions of the line.  Kind of groovy to refine the silt to clay, and then let the beat enter the awareness of what we pray.

I ask that we may step back and find the Peppermint Patty lack a link to Sally.  Some rally for position on the field, and it may be too bold to have told anyone that I wield the keys.  These days are party what helps us ease, and not force, the course of time into how the Taurean Earth Horse uses the rhyme to find the choice to shift away into another word from the birds that can’t speak.  English 150 is a peak into poetry, and though the professor showed something to me, I mix out to the Russian tree that I cannot spell.  The French speak some things well into the notes of the boats and how moats of the castle keep the vassal from crawling down the walls.  Some in this town may think that the calls that have yet to be made will not let the pet wade in sin.  I still don’t know which tin I will find the spin.

I am glad that I have had enough to puff and drink and eat, and though some stuff is to link to the cleat, the boat holds firm on the Whitemud Drive birm and the Edmonton perm.  If you spell wurm with a U, and not O, you may be one to speak a Magic flow.

The Opal shares the show, and though the Naya blend shows some friend are foe, the Jund has not shunned the child who will have waited decades just to see how she’ll have blush when I see the first time (in person) that she’ll  have smiled.  I am styled deep into the sands of sleep, and though I may not keep the connection, the ideas of the shoulic cross section remind us that some threads wind through 24 hours a day as being the way that the universe will let some of us play.  I’ve yet to relay a text, yet the next year shall find the dear stone to be one to let me have known, even if the openness to meeting hasn’t yet been sown.

I am prone to be a fool, though the cool ideas and people will find the Meeple to also include some of their brood into the prechewed and less lude dude to exude the treat of one to keep the beat away from the *bleet*.

The battle of the sands shall share the bands on hands to stand up like baby grands.  This lands in the fuel of the stone to turn the word love to be shown before the S.  Not hell, yet yes, the Select is a place where heaven and hell connect.  I shall direct the signs into the spines that shall assist and help twist the hearts yearning into the concern of how I burn.  The lessons we shall learn will help spurn us each forward to help and teach, and though our reach is not yet set as vast, or a net, the ideas of love will heed the need, and have the visions teed up to meet.

I am not hardcore.  I am not street.  I also am not one who wants to cheat, steal, or plunder, or blunder into even remotely accepting defeat.

Keep it sweet!!!

 

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