I like what I like,
sometimes I like what I see in the mirror...
sometimes I take my mirror down....
this is beautiful
Ode to the West Wind
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Last Updated: | Nov 04, 2016 |
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