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KBaby211

  • Paint

    My Life is a canvas Your Love is my paint Let your brush stroke me I'm open and blank Every time you say"I Love You" It's Paints a little More ...

    • Poetry
    • Other
    1 min read


The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.
— Kate Chopin, The Awakening