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Poetry: Fallen angel


Drawing on the wall of the house, they are talking noisily.

Palm brief their skirt and easily drop it down.


Dyed blond, black or chestnut brown what you can choice


Who out there,because the blood, and the crazy, wild sex worship.


In stilettos shoes waiting for the rich guests,


Their mouths in bold red lipstick, and the skin dipped in fragrant oil.


Long nails ... have never been accustomed to busy work.


Bring the men to the room , and carelessly throw her shoes in the corner.


There's a sweet, hungry, pretty, snappy, sweet or false,


Bran student who mingled with the lure of money power.


Chested and shaved legs, it is difficult to escape from a small bone gay,


Who push him bottom strained, gracefully waiting for the big impact.


Fallen Angels, who dropped to the trash every human standards,


Opened legs straining contempt of morals in the dust.


Hamburg ... Now I walk in there where allowed - a professional doing.


Pay harlots for breast without waiting emotions...


Angels, who fell so far in the height and bustle of a busy street.


Disgusting any good decent , and the cigarette hanging from the corners of they mouth.

Learn more about this author, Maria Bertalan.
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Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:

Poetry: Fallen angel

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    by Ron Jones

    Janie's Song

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    Drawing on the wall of the house, they are talking noisily.

    Palm brief their skirt and easily drop it down.


    Dyed blond,

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    Taking the final look
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    Oh stone angel,
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    by xxholysoldierxx

    Eyes dark, clouded by pain,
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Poetry: Fallen angel

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