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Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. -- I geuss you know what inspirated me?! I just love this poem!! Poem written by: W. H. Auden Stock: Clock Stock: Wall and floor Stock: Mirror and spider And the Important of all: "PHOTOSHOP TOP SECRETS" for learning how to make a waxy look. -- Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to view, comment and fave! I really appreciate everysingle one.. |
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February 12, 2006
2.3 MB 1.8 MB 600×586 StatisticsShare
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Comments
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A wise man once said: "There are no perfect men in the world; only perfect intentions."
Azeem
"I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way."
Jessica Rabbit
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fascinating shot!
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My photography blog ---> [link] <---
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I can only please one person per day.
Today is not your day.
Tomorrow isn't looking good either.
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Sorry for my bad english ! ahah
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A love divine to call my own, my precious gift from the Lord reigning between space and time and thought, watch as the happiness takes the reigns of our lives, leading us together in beautiful ways
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