Roses Are Red.

yaAllah...

baru juga mau kasih congrats, eh deak

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⠀⠀⠀ㅤㅤ ┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝐓he girl with the long hair she has the prettiest smile. And her beauty don’t just come from her great sense of style. Her gorgeous face is something that I would die for. She has the perfect skin tone with dark brown eyes. A small waist and little thin thighs. Her hands is sweet you know nice and smooth. When she get around me sometimes I get the blues.

Didn’t see her feet yet but I’m sure they look gook too. I’m addicted to her it’s like I’m under a spell. If we were both plants she’d be a flower and I’d be some weeds. Her smile makes me smile, yeah it’s that great. I will always have a thing for her that’s just how it is. This for the girl with the long hair, she know who she is.

Beauty like the butterfly is she wings so vibrant so lovely to see, the passion is in her laugh, her art. Look close to see so different so smart. Graceful, soft & sweet… so nice, draws you in like a summer night. Singing as sweet as tea, do you hear… Artfully. Her beauty so graceful radiant, full of life is she. So look to the sky, beauty… That’s me.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ·  ·  ·  · ✦

★☆★☆

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝟏
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀


ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ Beauty is brief and violent, like the white thunderbolt of Nilgiri slow and sudden braided like her hair one morning was a cluster of grapes hung beside each ear maybe it comes from where hunger the voices of children come breaking their way to my heart the stones my feet which are light and heavy from walking that path full and swift the river flows eroding the banks with its sinuous desire gentle and unkind the days the years boulders tossed by a giant down the hill we must climb to the sudden sinuous blue.

⸙͎ 𝐓he beauty of a woman isn’t in the clothes she wears, The figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that’s the doorway to her heart, the place where 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬. The beauty of a woman isn’t in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman, is reflected by her soul. It’s the caring that she cares to give, and the beauty of a 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 with passing years only grows.

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, so soft, so calm, yet 𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒕. The smiles that win, the tints that glow, but tell of days in goodness spent. Amind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁! 💭