Word Salsa #502

Each night I want to stay aware of death rattle and invite her brown hand empty at all in youth, loved To touch me feel loving being More Exposure. I like to live, to eat!
I have we get no logre olvidarte! I am from the beat of mouth could pollute with the sun move forward, soothed.

It followed by generations!

where secrets that CLEAN sheet of ocean and poverty, unemployment, racismo.

I let it!

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This poem has 2 thumbs up with 1 vote. There are 82 poems with the same rating, 18 better poems, and 303 worse ones.

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