My madagasgan market place
I walk down the streets of the madagasgan marketplace,
the sound of footsteps and mysterious words.
the smell of rotten meat and cooking rice tingle my nose,
black flys and red mosquitoes buzzing around them.
I grasp a small necklace in the palm of my hand,
smooth, yes; beautiful, of Corse; worthless? Never;
objects in this market are cheap, dull; but never worthless,
because they have a different kind of value.
the value of beauty.















Comments
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I've been to Hell and back. I would've stayed longer, but they got sick of my jokes, and Mephistophilis kept trying to braid my hair >.<
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are you EMOTIVE? do you love emotes? do you make emotes??
then join MY EMOTE GROUP! #E-M-O-T-E
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~Chooses daily devs, and sends them love on their page in song~
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