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    The Measure Of A Person

    WHAT'S THAT YOU'RE DOING?
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    • A
      admin last edited by

      The measure of a person GOD filled the least to which I've sung in debts of gratitude to a grandfather fathers from a son of my son to my own son sons to be a better person thinking about a person another person persons not only my own person I was the bad one a bad son grandson sons in peace in pieces. (Can't deny it) ((side note)) I tried to be a better person, and in the end stripped key parts stollen swollen for giving up for mistakes for love and that damn damned poison weed just to watch me bleed from within in a dark den they got what they wanted there is no peace with evil. It is better to stick with these, your Beatle friends. Here is love. Around you is strife and an invisible knife never believe it's not true too true to blue never obey a voice that you think is talking to you. They are just trying to steal your love away. Take it from me. I was led astray. I should have been slapped, hard. If you see someone listening to a voice or voices, slapp him hard even if you must flee the person. It might be the onny help left for him befor he slips away. The evil ones laugh and rejoice at our downfall. The yellow submerine is real, but the flowers in the ind are never revealed. Murdereres, all. Keep to your self and to your Beatle friends. Love is here. Evil is against us. We must resist at all costs. This unquality tested weed that is in this world does us all wrong. We go out to find releaf, and what do we get? Soul thief. They want us all for we have true love. Blessed be the Beatles 4ever!!!!

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      • A
        admin last edited by

        Bump.

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        • GYPSYGIRL
          GYPSYGIRL last edited by

          Thanks for sharing your wonderful poem!

          GYPSYGIRL

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          • A
            admin last edited by

            GYPSYGIRL:

            Thanks for sharing your wonderful poem!

            Let me just say it is dangerous to listen to the streets for wisdom. It is better to keep to yourself and find the wisdom that is within, if only to stop, consider, and listen. The heart is hard to hear but will never steer one wrong. To grieve, ignore, our hearts away is to die is a way. What are we made up of? A mind in part. A heart and mind in conection, seperate and the deep secrets of ones life, the spirit person, and the flesh self. The most important of these to protect is the heart, so tender, easily broken, hard to reasemble, if ever. Sometimes the pain is in vain, I suppose.

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            • GYPSYGIRL
              GYPSYGIRL last edited by

              Ahhh..........Coming from deep within.

              GYPSYGIRL

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              • A
                admin last edited by

                GYPSYGIRL:

                Thanks for sharing your wonderful poem!

                My pleasure my pain.

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                • A
                  admin last edited by

                  @selenagomez @sarahpalin BUMP

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