Advertising 0089 Current Version
Personal principles are praised, but instead
Public Opinion is too easily led.
The muddy brained People must beg for its bread
bewildered by twenty-six cynics of lead.
They're so artificial, those bland bywords bred,
yet represent love signals, colour code thread.
Cold copy-writers our custom importune
composing cant catchwords to cull off our fortune.
Publicity [p]reaches wherever we tread,
an encroaching octopus tentacles spread,
pours bland inky blessings on all but the dead.
Standardization with all pretence shed
industry offers fat profits ahead,
as promise of status stands sales in good stead.
Cold creams and cosmetics, shampoos for the hair,
stimulants and sedatives, to each his share,
need needs be invented to spare us from care?
The sales pitch embraces those parts of the nation
accounting for most of mankind's consumation
according to up-to-date sales information
from market research data based computation,
women, the workers, the young generation.
Commitments increase as old scruples are shed.
Spring water purchased in neat plastic bottle,
sports car equipped with an elegant throttle,
all must be sold, unemployment to throttle.
With credit all waiting from wanting is fled
For the recession, combined with inflation,
threatens the structures of civilisation;
savings must shrink or we'll face confrontation
from all who would otherwise lack occupation.
New goods and services are stimulation.
Odd sorts, shapes and sizes, confuse, so its rare
that housewives, though willing, can truly compare;
that packaging costs more than product's unfair!
With prosperous public to politics wed,
privacy's threatened, it can't be gainsaid.
Consumer protection is often misled
by headlines enticing and small print widespread.
Set in strip lighting, or spoken, or read,
through radio, T.V., broadcasted in bed.
Nor ever has Internet, spammed, been immune,
text message records, repeats, slick slogan, tune.
Printed in polychrome over our head,
in so many senses, for senseless fathead,
over the airwaves judiciously spread
from high ultra-violet to low infra-red,
pasted on posters in blue, black, or red,
advertisement squares all our savings have bled.
(5 August 2006)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Pandora's Box Unlocks
With prosperous public to politics wed,
privacy's threatened, it can't be gainsaid.
Consumer protection is often misled
by headlines enticing and small print widespread.
Set in strip lighting, or spoken, or read,
through radio, T.V., broadcasted in bed.
Nor ever has Internet, spammed, been immune,
text message records, repeats, slick slogan, tune.
Printed in polychrome over our head,
in so many senses, for senseless fathead,
over the airwaves judiciously spread
from high ultra-violet to low infra-red,
pasted on posters in blue, black, or red,
advertisement squares all our savings have bled.
The first time I set eyes upon square screen
was for the Coronation of the Queen,
the room was packed with neighbours far and wide,
sardines with scarce a breathing space inside.
But that was almost sixty years ago,
since then from novelty we've seen it grow
from monochrome to tri-di spy immersion
subliminal for and against subversion
to cover acres as necessity
acting for good and ill till cecity
swallows sight, with insight's déjà vu
quite compromised, disinformation too
blatant to ignore which rumour pours
upon mass and seeps through skin deep pores
polluting much, for such appears a lot
of Public Mission with both words forgot.
It's difficult to talk about the 'box'
ignoring all its spread in fact unlocks.
Here 'News' from global village in real time,
there sights and sounds of peaks men mean to climb.
Convergency has helped it piggy-back
on Internet that some folk love to hack,
as streaming waves however they're defined,
all senses of the term, we must remind
ourselves that impacts follow paths to logic strange
as here they help and there their feeds derange.
One thing is certain, advertising space
has cut attention spans yet leaves slight trace
of passing through collective consciousness
to leave John Doe in quite a pretty mess.
This essay could continue till each cow
comes home, they roam on many pastures now,
the arguments both pro and con should be
well integrated in convergency
of multi-media, cinema, and web,
3D, HD, and acronyms that ebb
and flow as progress further progress seeds,
information saturation succeeds
in drawing in the crowds five hours a day
to kill extended time on crime, sport, play,
perhaps to compensate for empty mind
that dare not look to future nor behind,
but lives from day to day as series shower
debilitating plots that seem to flower
to fill the void most would avoid to fill
in ways that build rich character fulfilled.
Heroic couplets on the television
seem odd conveying theme, yet the decision
stems from the ways the human mind has grown
to integrate disinformation sown
as if quite part and parcel of their days
on Earth, to comfort loneliness. Displays
of wars abroad or terrorists at home
distract the brainless brains once wont to roam
from more important things, priorities
once held essential, now old-fashionned tease.
One can no longer speak on television
as media in itself without precision
that information channels multiplied
with much which borrows begs from other side,
as radio upon the Internet
cannot be severed from flash films, and yet
the question could perhaps be re-assessed:
will future influence be worst or best
when all is said and done, in fifty years
a fairer answer may with laughter, tears,
or some of each, an explanation offer
apart from that of draining public's coffer.
An overview essential seems to be
when broaching impact that stems from T.V.
upon our daily lives that seem to flee
from societal responsibility
as individual decision making
appears to be upon the point of breaking.
(12 April 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
P.a.j.
P.A.J.
Grandfather’s generation would have said:
“He is as dead! ”
his younger brother will a stranger wed,
one’s mind sees red.
At University their paths would thread,
thoughtless they tread,
senseless instead
of following where ancestors had led,
for what they bled
to be a Jew and join a new homestead
in Talmud read.
Although on Saturday turned table’s spread, -
(he butters bread) -
one would prefer by far to fast in bed, -
(she mutters, fed) .
Why are light’s links around him shed?
why was he bred?
Upon next weekend all must dwell in dread,
what lies ahead …
5 April 1975
robi03_0072_robi03_0000 XXX_OXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fall In Love With Me
Pop/bowie/sales/sales
You look so good to me
Here in this old saloon
Way back in west berlin
A bottle of white wine
White wine and you
A table made of wood
And how I wish you would
Fall in love with me
You look so good to me
Standing out in the street
With your cheap fur on
Or maybe your plastic raincoat
And your plastic shoes
They look good too
Standing in the snow
Youre younger than you look
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
How I wish you would
A table made of wood
And a bottle of white wine
And you-and a bottle of
White wine and you
And when youre standing
In the street and its cold
And it snows on you
And you look younger
Than you really are
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
Yeah
The way your eyes are black
The way your hair is black
The way your heart is young
Theres just a few like you
Just the kind I need
To fall in love with me
Oh and you look so good
Yes you look so good
A bottle of white wine
A cigarette and you
Here in this saloon
White wine and you
I wish youd fall in love with me
I wish youd fall in love with me
cause theres
Just a few like you
So young and real
Theres just a few like you
So young and real
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
You look so good
When youre young at heart
Theres just a few like you
Youre young at heart
Wont you
Come to this old saloon
Come to my waiting arms
A table made of wood
And I will look at you
cause youre so young and pure
And youre young at heart
Youre young at heart
A bottle of white wine
And when youre tumbling down
You just look better
When youre tumbling down
You just look finer
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On The Rails
Phew! This department if so unbearably stifling,
The whole populace is frantically rifling,
Through loads of clothes, hanging up for inspection,
Either for your acceptance, or for your rejection,
On the rails,
At the Sales!
The available sizes left, are eight's and eighteen's,
In shirts, blouses, jumpers and denim blue jeans,
Bra cups in E's and F's and G's.
Skirts so short, they ride way above the knees,
What sort of 'shapes' are these stores expecting,
What choice, have we, when it comes to selecting,
From the rails,
At the Sales!
It's a manic crush, and there's really no mistaking,
Fighting over, items' that aren't worth the taking,
Like that half price dress, that was less than you thought,
But that someone else has just grabbed and has bought,
So quick, and you being just a little bit too slack,
You have lost it, and it won't now be yours, with diamante in black,
Off the rails,
At the Sales!
Oh! It's a battle, and such a mad struggle to survive,
And in the end, it takes so many hours to revive,
Your senses, and days like this one can be so tiring,
When buying these bargains, which you have stood there admiring,
Hung on rails,
At the Sales!
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Well all the big companies are really panicked by the internet thing and all that, and sales went down, although sales have gone up again in this country a bit and also the big companies, because they're so big, they need big sales really so they're not really interested.
quote by Jack Bruce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Used Car Sales People
With the gift of the gab they would talk their way out of hell
These used car sales people they know how to sell
On their selling ability their jobs are at stake
The more cars they do sell the more commission they do make
On any deals they clinch they have never lost
And your trust on such people can come at a cost
The more cars they sell the more money they get paid
A hard job to succeed in the used car trade,
Shy and sensitive used car sales people one might say are rare
To sell one a car no effort they do spare
They have to sell cars or their boss them will fire
And other used car yard owners as car sales people them will not hire
The more cars they sell the greater is their pay
So to sell you a car they try every which way.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wind In Our Sales
One day we will have what we need
To build an extremely big neon sign
For people who dont know who we are
Five guys in a band
We have the wind in our sales
Why quit when we are this close to a dream?
We have the wind in our sales
The heat is waiting for us to be turned on
One day we will have what we need
To build an extremely big iron cage
For people who show us no respect
Five lives in their hands
We have the wind in our sales
Why quit when we are this close to a dream?
We have the wind in our sales
The heat is waiting for us to be turned on
Laugh about the irony, we become who we tried not to be
Music falls back to second place in this commercial race
song performed by by Undeclinable Ambuscade
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Ballade Of The Average Reader
I try to touch the public taste,
For thus I earn my daily bread.
I try to write what folks will paste
In scrap books after I am dead.
By Public Craving I am led.
(I' sooth, a most despotic leader)
Yet, though I write for Tom and Ned,
I've never seen an average reader.
The Editor is good and chaste,
But says: (Above the public's head;
This is _too_ good; 'twill go to waste.
Write something commonplacer-
Ed.)
Write for the average reader, fed
By pre-digested near-food's feeder,
But though my high ideals have fled,
I've never _seen_ an average reader.
How many lines have been erased!
How many fancies have been shed!
How many failures might be traced
To this-this average-reader dread!
I've seen an average single bed;
I've seen an average garden-weeder;
I've seen an average cotton thread-
I've _never_ seen an average _reader_.
L'ENVOI
Most read of readers, if you've read
The works of any old succeeder,
You know that he, too, must have said:
'I've never seen an Average Reader.'
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ars Gratia
If none recall beginning how can end
present a launching pad to bleed penned thought,
the point is taken with emotions caught,
the rune to score the score to tune and mend.
No cut no quill Will needs to print the page
as soldiers twenty six are drilled to play
a part or to engage, reflections sway, -
“go with the flow” and [t}ease shrill strain away.
From ultra violent or to infra read
It matters not as notes that now are sown
form part of parcel of what once was known,
will yet become, door open wide ahead.
Reality and dreams remain the same,
no code, no key, no st[r]ain – let promise flame…
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Political Fruit: A Political Solution!
A yokel’s assessment
loft pigeon holing
key kiwi politics
for term year 2001.
Under Labouring Leadership
exhibited by Prime Minister.
Housewife mentality not
her honourable Helen Clark.
“I’m glad I’m a kiwi
in the land of the free(?)
I wish I was a dog
and Jenny Shipley was a tree! ”
That former National Leader
of the N.Z. Socialist Welfare State.
Effectively exterminated some of
the old the sick the maimed not retained.
The (destained) . Supposedly unemployable.
Through effective long hospital waiting lists.
Patients patiently dying in sickening turn.
Waiting for their turn lifetime tax paid for.
Grossly government underfunded operations.
Patients could not live long enough to have.
Contrast increasing youth adult suicide rates.
Highlights dispirited dispossessed chose to die.
Rather than live with unstomachable shame.
Shame for their families to deal with if had one.
National gave their last paid jobs away to
cheaper ill fated foreign third world workers.
To even more socially exploited workers.
In even more exploited less fortunate lands.
Ensuring aspiring elite rich may free trade
grossing ever more greed upon greed
sweat and misery maximized equating to
an advanced global industrial slavery.
As Neo-liberal policies bite ever harder.
“Full employment is necessary
for capitalism
to grow”; did you never realize!
Shrinking profit rates! Economic Solution?
Inspires corporate elite to revive
depression causing economic liberalism!
Definitions: 1. Rule Of The Market.
Main goal. Reduce wages eliminate
worker rights! Ignore Social Damage!
Lie to the plebeians. Tell these victims.
“An unregulated market will increase
economic growth benefit everyone! ”
Reagan sold as 'trickle-down' economics.
Wealth does not trickle down! It is taken!
2. Cut Social Services. Cut education!
Cut health care! Reduce safety-net for poor!
Reduce maintenance for roads bridges
water supply! Sell as reducing taxes needed!
3. Deregulation. Deregulate all impediment
to profits! No! Protecting the environment?
Safety on the job? Reduce maximize profit!
4. Privatization for Profit. State-owned sold!
Sell goods and services to private investors!
Sell banks! Sell key industries! Sell electricity!
Sell railroads! Sell toll highways! Sell schools!
Sell hospitals! Sell fresh water! Tell plebeians?
This is for greater efficiency which is needed!
Concentrate wealth among an elite few! Make
the public pay more for needed goods services!
5. Eliminate the concept of 'The Public Good'.
Rename everything with shiny new names to
destroy community concepts! Replace Unifying
Terms with slogan 'individual responsibility! '
Divide Conquer the to be exploited plebeian cows!
Milk them for all they have got! Pressure poorest
people in society! Make them accountable! Make
them find solutions to their own lack of health care!
Strip poor of good education good social security!
Blame plebeians who fail! Call them lazy! Divide!
Enjoy your promised promoted new world order.
“I’m glad I’m a kiwi in the land of the free”?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Housing has led our nation's economic expansion over the past few years, accounting for 16 percent of our Gross Domestic Product. New housing starts and home sales hit record levels from 2003 through 2005.
quote by Randy Neugebauer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
(Ambition Poem) Business In A Dream
Technology old.
Gets a shoulder so cold.
Rather then sharing it with those less fortunate then you.
Thrown away, melted down or melt scrapped.
What if I was their just be another market for such things.
Would you believe me?
A refurbished PC.
A idealogical dream.
A business to the likes of the use car sales man.
Cheaper because its outdated.
But still a free operating system can be found on which it will run.
I'm using a fifteen plus year old computer I built from the ground up just one year ago.
Yes parts have failed, but they also have been easily replaced.
I have shared these with both family and friends.
Yet still I see no trend, in place where all are trying to cut their budgets.
Energy efficient in one way maybe not.
But in another it eliminates all that unfortunate waste.
Will the people ever have a taste for something such as this.
I wish somebody would make requests.
I have only one friend who wants one.
And I also wish I could acquire more that would otherwise be thrown away.
Oh will this love of mine lead me anywhere?
A new field which doesn't truly exist.
Oh how I wish.
This is but another business in a dream.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tommy's Dead
YOU may give over plough, boys,
You may take the gear to the stead,
All the sweat o' your brow, boys,
Will never get beer and bread.
The seed's waste, I know, boys,
There's not a blade will grow, boys,
'Tis cropped out, I trow, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
Send the colt to fair, boys,
He's going blind, as I said,
My old eyes can't bear, boys,
To see him in the shed;
The cow's dry and spare, boys,
She's neither here nor there, boys,
I doubt she's badly bread;
Stop the mill to-morn, boys,
There'll be no more corn, boys,
Neither white nor red;
There's no sign of grass, boys,
You may sell the goat and the ass, boys,
The land's not what it was, boys,
And the beasts must be fed:
You may turn Peg away, boys,
You may pay off old Ned,
We've had a dull day, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
Move my chair on the floor, boys,
Let me turn my head:
She's standing there in the door, boys,
Your sister Winifred!
Take her away from me, boys,
Your sister Winifred!
Move me round in my place, boys,
Let me turn my head,
Take her away from me, boys,
As she lay on here death-bed,
The bones of her thin face, boys,
As she lay on her death-bed!
I don't know how it be, boys,
When all's done and said,
But I see her looking at me, boys,
Whenever I turn my head;
Out of the big oak tree, boys,
Out of the garden-bed,
And the lily as pale as she, boys,
And the rose that used to be red.
There's something not right, boys,
But I think it's not in my head,
I've kept my precious sight, boys, --
The Lord be hallowéd!
Outside and in
The ground is cold to my tread,
The hills are wizen and thin,
The sky is shrivelled and shred,
The hedges down by the loan
I can count them bone by bone,
The leaves are open and spread,
But I see the teeth of the land,
And hands like a dead man's hand,
And the eyes of a dead man's head.
There's nothing but cinders and sand,
The rat and the mouse have fed,
And the summer's empty and cold;
Over valley and wold
Wherever I turn my head
There's a mildew and a mould,
The sun's going out overhead,
And I'm very old,
And Tommy's dead.
What am I staying for, boys,
You're all born and bred,
'Tis fifty years and more, boys,
Since wife and I were wed,
And she'd gone before, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
She was always sweet, boys,
Upon his curly head,
She knew she'd never see't, boys,
And she stole off to bed;
I've been siting up alone, boys,
For he'd come home, he said,
But it's time I was gone boys,
For Tommy's dead.
Put the shutters up, boys,
Bring out the beer and bread,
Make haste and sup, boys,
For my eyes are heavy as lead:
There's something wrong i' the cup, boys,
There's something ill wi' the bread,
I don't care to sup, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
I'm not right, I doubt, boys,
I've such a sleepy head,
I shall nevermore be stout, boys,
You may carry me to bed.
What are you about, boys?
The prayers are all said,
The fire's raked out, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
The stairs are too steep, boys,
You may carry me to the head,
The night's dark and deep, boys,
Your mother's long in bed,
'Tis time to go to sleep, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
I'm not used to a kiss, boys,
You may shake my hand instead.
All things go amiss, boys,
You may lay me where she is, boys,
And I'll rest my old head:
'Tis a poor world, this, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Date Stamp
This hearts up for sale
Yeah, this hearts on the stand
Mix and match and melt in my mouth
Nothing ever goes quite as planned
You fly north and Ill sail south
So redevelop product
Redesign this package
Still refuse to reach in your pocket
Everything is temporary written on that sand
Looking for the girl that meets supply with demand
_ chorus:
Love has no guarantee
(yes Im date stamped)
Promise me eternity
(guess Ill fade away)
Even with a pedigree
(yes Im date stamped)
Love has no guarantee
That hearts on display, yes, that hearts off the rails
A ship in the harbour with wind in its sails
Chain up love inside the chain-store girl
Chain up love and exchange it
Is monsieur a connoisseur or just short-changed?
Off the rack or custom-fit it all seems the same
Look but dont touch in paradise
Dont let them catch you damaging the merchandise
_ to chorus
I get sales talk from sales assistants
When all I want to do girl, is lower your resistance
Everything is temporary, written in the sand
Looking for the girl that meets supply with demand
Love has no guarantee
Brings out the woman in me
Even with a pedigree
Love has no guarantee
No chance of subtlety
No promise of eternity
Even with a pedigree
Love has no guarantee
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A kindness with gesture
A person will be know by his own behavior
He will be his own destructor and savior
His turn about may speak well about personality
It may also prove his ability and capability
He can’t become well-known for his fortune
No one may buy his arguments or fall to his tune
There may be many like him in this world
They may enjoy their life but their approach may be very cold
We can give advice to others ob the basis of expertise
People may offer all support and at the same criticize
It is state of art that comes to the person’s rescue
He may have all the fame and name which is due
What do people expect from you as gentleman?
Few kind words and treatment very human
It may raise your status to the highest position
It will also be known as rare combination
What in return of kindness we offer?
Will it be in form of blessings or simple murmur?
Words should not simply fall or flow?
If they are spoken with affection then face must also glow
May it be from elders in the form of kiss?
It may also be special offer and gesture from Miss
I shall welcome it without any hiss
Who knows it may be or prove real bliss?
I shall prefer to remain unknown and live alone
Even if no help comes from any one
I must accept it with full joy from inception
Even if that is offered with some deception
Why then so much noise is created?
Is there not real love which is recreated?
Do we ever sing when some one is cremated?
Do we not shed tears even if it is lamented?
How do we define it in terms and exactly?
Message is conveyed properly and correctly
May it not looks so neat and clean?
As heart and mind act together and lean
Why simple kiss creates hornet’s nest?
Is it not the ideal to offer as best?
Why at all it should give nuisance test?
No gossips, no rumors and put them at rest
What difference it makes if offered on forehead?
Love and true affection takes place and spread
All sentiments can be expressed and simply read
Fragrance comes out of it and coolness is felt in head
Lovers may take it as warm welcome
Daughter may feel simply good and feel awesome
Wife to husband may seem as emerging gesture
Happy moments may appear with beautiful nature
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sales may lead to advertising as much as advertising leads to sales.
quote by Michael Schudson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The record industry is still pissed off that other people are making money off their business, even if it promotes their products and increases their sales. I think they're still mad about radio.
quote by Jonathan Potter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Remember the Seasons
'Gladness of life in blossom, will to wend
its way as if instead
of deathwards, voyage led
to timeless bliss ahead,
to ease unlimited.
Madness of life to dissipation friend -
unheedful, as we said,
that mortal trap is spread -
where one on mischance has fed
Time's hydra head.
Sadness of life left little to defend,
as palsied hairs are shed
and heart thumps at the tread
announcing that the thread
shall snap - too soon to bed!
Sadness of life on knife edge of its end,
all former fortune fled,
to Lethe's waters wed -
last leaf which hangs in dread
of Fate, of Time, soon dead.
Is stonewall all our trend?
Beyond perceptions bread
and butter life lends bred
by hopes and fears unread
perhaps we'll find instead
the seasons' reasons end
come clear as round life's bend
we travel onwards, send
our children hope, extend
trust, understanding blend,
man's misconceptions mend.
(7 July 1990 revised 13 April 2008 robi03_0324_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I see red!
In a moment of silence
I ponder
Thinking of the pressure that I’m under
Should I resort to violence?
I see red like a blood thirsty vampire
I feel red like a hot faced town crier
It is as if I've been hit with a set of pliers
While disappointed in the one I used to admire
Yesterday before and after I went to bed
I dreamt of nothing else but the dead
I saw a vision of the rolling of heads
You've stabbed me and I have bled
My eyes are still steaming hot and red
These vicious rumours that you've spread
While I blindly followed and you led
Now I question myself instead
Of all the things that have been said
Have I knowingly been misled?
Without recognising what was ahead
I know positive thoughts I must embed
Peace is the message we want widespread
Not red with more bloodshed
What is really weird, is whenever we see red
That negative vision can so easily be shred
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Know It's Spring When.....
I know it's spring when blossoms bloom
I see the disappearing gloom
The sun shines bright on children's faces
Children run at fast paces
Spring sales here and there
Spring sales everywhere
Animal eggs hatch
Girls and boys play catch
Easter Bunny hopping around the town
Easter Bunny hopping up and down
Kites are flying through the sky
Now I smell a cherry pie
Now I see a dove
This is why spring is the season that I love
poem by Daniela Valdes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!