Song: The cub
Small on the street by himself, as the plantain,
He is not afraid of anyone, because he has a knife
It sick of pies, he hates poetry,
A priest with whom he drank, and forgave him his sins.
№ 372619 Added
MegaMozg 17-06-2019 / 03:13
Draws a strip of salt on her cheeks
Ruffled the hair the wind in the clouds,
Birds sing, angels with them
Someday we'll be different.
№ 372604 Added
MegaMozg 17-06-2019 / 01:02
That does not rock the boat, it is necessary to erase the memory.
Now all is stable, light the flame.
№ 372603 Added
MegaMozg 17-06-2019 / 00:13
The cub outgrowth wolf.
And will tear the dogs.
He understands the word "pain".
Does not know the word "love."
It's not Mowgli, you look at the coals.
This is for the angels he burned signal lights.
№ 372518 Added
MegaMozg 14-06-2019 / 12:07
