Pour makes me think of all my favorite beverages. Namely Dr. Pepper. Did you know I never had a glass of Dr. Pepper till I was 20? I was quite outraged to find out nobody told me how incredibly delicious it was until I myself drank it.
“poor me , pour me a drink” is the cry of the self-pitying alcoholic. Everyone and everythig is to blame for his drinking, and everything and everyone’s behaviour provides the perfect excuse. “You drove me to it” “I can’t handle this”
“Pour favor,” the waiter said, holding out his hand. That much Spanish I understood so I reached into my pocket for what coins I had left. Not many, now.
a word containing four letters. And the sound of it can mean two things both broke or homeless or pouring something into somethiong… A usefull word. And something I never use that I can think of.
i want to pour my heart out to you but i’m scared that you don’t feel the way I do. But what if you do? sometimes I just don’t know and I’m leaving soon so is it fair to do this to us? i wanna be able to talk to you about everything…
I wish I could pour my heart out to you, the way the words so easily flow out onto my paper. Careful meticulous set out words, words lined so perfectly for your ears and now I can’t seem to say them, now that you’re here.
pour your heart and soul into me. make me you everything and don’t turn back. because i want you, and you , and nothing but you. Miles and piles of you. Pure undiluted and top if the line. because i love you, more than air, more than food, more than life itself. and i’d do anything to have you feel the same way about me.
Pour makes me think of when i was at hearshey park for my bands spring trip. Around eight o clock or nine o clock that night it started pouring rain and me and all my band buddies, (except Curtis who was sick and sleeping on a bench) were running around and splashing in the rain. It was beyond fun. No one was there and it was just us as we splashed and danced through the rain and also played our game, down in the banks, that was possibly one of the best weekends of my life. When we got back to the hotel i then realized that my red band sweatshirt had tie dyed my shorts pink.
Rain pours.
It pours from gray skies that make me tired and sore.
Sugar pours.
It pours and I watch with delight as my mother hums and bakes in the kitchen.
One might think that words pour from one’s heart.
But if that’s true, my words’ consistency is off-kilter.
For they hop out of my biceps, are forced through the sieve of my skin, get stuck in my pores, and fall to the floor around the tips of my shoe laces.
Maybe they’ll pour out someday.
Pour your heart out, Mr. Smith. Pour it out into the days ahead and do your best, nay, do better then your best. Because if you can give your all, in anything you try, if you can give your all to every breath you take, if you can give your all each and every day, then you will never be poor
I like to pour myself a full glass of whiskey when the time is right. The time, of course, is always right. I am drinking whiskey right now. I shall drink whiskey tomorrow too. Perhaps twice.
I poured out some lemonade to the first customer. He was gratful especially on such a hot day. He drop a quater on my counter and I told him to come back soon. I then realized that I would never be able to do this for a living.
a liquid coming out of something that is holding the substance. You can pour soap on a sponge for dish washing, you can pour juice into a cup, you can pour any substance into anything.
pouring the milk out of the pitcher. creamy white, thick and pure. a stack of cookies. settling in on the couch. just for a moment, feeling like a child again. rain drops outside, pouring down. drip drop drip drop.
The rain came pouring down. Salt pours, remember Morton Salt? Pour a pitcher of milk, or how about koolaid. What else can you think of to do with pour? You can’t use it when you really mean poor, not rich. I see
It’s pouring in her soul.
He’s leaving now, that gorgeous creature by the door. His skin is waiting for him, and he must leave.
She wants him to come back to her.
Come back, sure. He thinks. He’ll return here. But to some other woman, in some other time.
Couldnt ever wipe it away, the scent..the essence.
It tasted of pennies and dust in his mouth, and as the steady drip drip ran down, Sierra contued to dutifully pour his lords wine.
liquid. essential, bt water is denied to so many people. In a world that’s 70 percent water, that’s one of the greatest imaginable injustices that we could let happen.
Pouring rain. Sneaking out the back door to come see you. Kissing in the rain without a care in the world because you know how much I hate my hair when it’s wet, but you could care less. The after rain smell. Long walks in my wellingotns
I want it to pour rain, pour rain on my head. So I can feel the drops going into my skull like daggers, so I can realize the pain and forget everything else. Just, focus, on, phsycial pain.
I poured a glass of orangejuice into my imaginary glass. therefore it poured onto the ground and my spectacular dog licked it all up.
I miss my orange juicy orange juice…come back to me.
water, its essential. We pour to drink from it. Rain pours on us, its essential to life as well. Life sometimes pour on us even when we really don’t need it. It happens. Pouring is a very universal term.
He’d heard the expression ‘When it rains, it pours’ but he had no idea that the culmination of unlucky events would put in in the state penitentiary for 5-10 for jaywalking.
pouring down inside is tears and outside rain is turning up and her heart feels the rips and tears like eyes. but maybe it was just her imagination or wa
we are the devil, and devil in us. it’s a pleasant thought that we may control our fate, our demons–
but I’ve sat awake through starless nights, breathless and praying, and only one’s awake at that hour to listen, and he can help, and he tells me souls kindle nicely; but I have midnight-tipped pens, and chains at the ready, and I have a backbone of my own–
and I’d fain pour myself into my shadow to save the twilight.
pour out all your sorrows, all your hopes and dreams to me
i can make you see the world in a new reality
if you pour your troubles out and let them go away
i can make your world be a love, a wish, and a way to stay
just pour your troubles away
you have to pour things out of something. it is the ever popular escape into another trap. it leaves, molds, shapes, and modifies, only to end where it began in a
so i poured the milk into the glass it was an interesting experience but quite enjoyable as i poured i thought of the milk as a waterfall draining into a ravine yet as i lifted the milk to my mouth i realised that milk is just milk
She poured the liquid into the glass, careful not to spill. She’d heard enough horror stories to know that it was better safe than sorry and, frankly, she’d paid that guy a mint for it so she didn’t want to waste a drop
Pour makes me think of all my favorite beverages. Namely Dr. Pepper. Did you know I never had a glass of Dr. Pepper till I was 20? I was quite outraged to find out nobody told me how incredibly delicious it was until I myself drank it.
“poor me , pour me a drink” is the cry of the self-pitying alcoholic. Everyone and everythig is to blame for his drinking, and everything and everyone’s behaviour provides the perfect excuse. “You drove me to it” “I can’t handle this”
“Pour favor,” the waiter said, holding out his hand. That much Spanish I understood so I reached into my pocket for what coins I had left. Not many, now.
a word containing four letters. And the sound of it can mean two things both broke or homeless or pouring something into somethiong… A usefull word. And something I never use that I can think of.
i want to pour my heart out to you but i’m scared that you don’t feel the way I do. But what if you do? sometimes I just don’t know and I’m leaving soon so is it fair to do this to us? i wanna be able to talk to you about everything…
I wish I could pour my heart out to you, the way the words so easily flow out onto my paper. Careful meticulous set out words, words lined so perfectly for your ears and now I can’t seem to say them, now that you’re here.
pour your heart and soul into me. make me you everything and don’t turn back. because i want you, and you , and nothing but you. Miles and piles of you. Pure undiluted and top if the line. because i love you, more than air, more than food, more than life itself. and i’d do anything to have you feel the same way about me.
Pour makes me think of when i was at hearshey park for my bands spring trip. Around eight o clock or nine o clock that night it started pouring rain and me and all my band buddies, (except Curtis who was sick and sleeping on a bench) were running around and splashing in the rain. It was beyond fun. No one was there and it was just us as we splashed and danced through the rain and also played our game, down in the banks, that was possibly one of the best weekends of my life. When we got back to the hotel i then realized that my red band sweatshirt had tie dyed my shorts pink.
everyone now a days
Rain pours.
It pours from gray skies that make me tired and sore.
Sugar pours.
It pours and I watch with delight as my mother hums and bakes in the kitchen.
One might think that words pour from one’s heart.
But if that’s true, my words’ consistency is off-kilter.
For they hop out of my biceps, are forced through the sieve of my skin, get stuck in my pores, and fall to the floor around the tips of my shoe laces.
Maybe they’ll pour out someday.
Pour your heart out, Mr. Smith. Pour it out into the days ahead and do your best, nay, do better then your best. Because if you can give your all, in anything you try, if you can give your all to every breath you take, if you can give your all each and every day, then you will never be poor
I like to pour myself a full glass of whiskey when the time is right. The time, of course, is always right. I am drinking whiskey right now. I shall drink whiskey tomorrow too. Perhaps twice.
black and purple
big font
two words
7 letters
lower case letters
I poured out some lemonade to the first customer. He was gratful especially on such a hot day. He drop a quater on my counter and I told him to come back soon. I then realized that I would never be able to do this for a living.
It’s an old wives’ tale…Pour some salt in your hand and throw it over you shoulder. Does it work? Who knows.
a liquid coming out of something that is holding the substance. You can pour soap on a sponge for dish washing, you can pour juice into a cup, you can pour any substance into anything.
pouring the milk out of the pitcher. creamy white, thick and pure. a stack of cookies. settling in on the couch. just for a moment, feeling like a child again. rain drops outside, pouring down. drip drop drip drop.
pour vous?
“Pouring and spilling
Thoughts that drip.”
“Pour another drink,
The night’s not done.”
pour qui?
The rain came pouring down. Salt pours, remember Morton Salt? Pour a pitcher of milk, or how about koolaid. What else can you think of to do with pour? You can’t use it when you really mean poor, not rich. I see
It’s pouring in her soul.
He’s leaving now, that gorgeous creature by the door. His skin is waiting for him, and he must leave.
She wants him to come back to her.
Come back, sure. He thinks. He’ll return here. But to some other woman, in some other time.
Couldnt ever wipe it away, the scent..the essence.
It tasted of pennies and dust in his mouth, and as the steady drip drip ran down, Sierra contued to dutifully pour his lords wine.
liquid. essential, bt water is denied to so many people. In a world that’s 70 percent water, that’s one of the greatest imaginable injustices that we could let happen.
Pouring rain. Sneaking out the back door to come see you. Kissing in the rain without a care in the world because you know how much I hate my hair when it’s wet, but you could care less. The after rain smell. Long walks in my wellingotns
I want it to pour rain, pour rain on my head. So I can feel the drops going into my skull like daggers, so I can realize the pain and forget everything else. Just, focus, on, phsycial pain.
I poured a glass of orangejuice into my imaginary glass. therefore it poured onto the ground and my spectacular dog licked it all up.
I miss my orange juicy orange juice…come back to me.
water, its essential. We pour to drink from it. Rain pours on us, its essential to life as well. Life sometimes pour on us even when we really don’t need it. It happens. Pouring is a very universal term.
I poured my heart out to you
“I’m over it”
that’s all ya got?
He’d heard the expression ‘When it rains, it pours’ but he had no idea that the culmination of unlucky events would put in in the state penitentiary for 5-10 for jaywalking.
But hey, you live and you learn.
pour some sugar on me ;)
pouring down inside is tears and outside rain is turning up and her heart feels the rips and tears like eyes. but maybe it was just her imagination or wa
Pouring very very, cold clear, fresh, tasty water from a paper thin elegant glass jug. It’s good and it makes you feel lucky.
“majesty/faithful me/pour yourself/into me”
we are the devil, and devil in us. it’s a pleasant thought that we may control our fate, our demons–
but I’ve sat awake through starless nights, breathless and praying, and only one’s awake at that hour to listen, and he can help, and he tells me souls kindle nicely; but I have midnight-tipped pens, and chains at the ready, and I have a backbone of my own–
and I’d fain pour myself into my shadow to save the twilight.
pour out all your sorrows, all your hopes and dreams to me
i can make you see the world in a new reality
if you pour your troubles out and let them go away
i can make your world be a love, a wish, and a way to stay
just pour your troubles away
you have to pour things out of something. it is the ever popular escape into another trap. it leaves, molds, shapes, and modifies, only to end where it began in a
so i poured the milk into the glass it was an interesting experience but quite enjoyable as i poured i thought of the milk as a waterfall draining into a ravine yet as i lifted the milk to my mouth i realised that milk is just milk
Pour.
Drip.
Falling, falling.
Rushing, gushing.
Out.
Onto the floor, and splash!
She poured the liquid into the glass, careful not to spill. She’d heard enough horror stories to know that it was better safe than sorry and, frankly, she’d paid that guy a mint for it so she didn’t want to waste a drop
I pour the tea into the cup and put it in front of them. Over and over again.
They’re all watching the same television programmes, all drinking my tea, and all slowly losing their minds and bodies to old age.
But at least the tea is there to see them through to the end.