totem hazırlamış olduğum için şu an vicdanen içim rahat ama ya yanılıyorsam bu saçmalığa o kadar güvenmemeliysem ya…ama içimi rahatlatmak …falan falan…
that bench, that unforgettable bench that stood between me and the one i love, that undeniable bench, that uncrossable bench was the infinite, silent decision to end it with me.
there was a bench and guys drunk from it, whlst trying to find what’s going on with their babies and wives and where next holiday should be among them was a sceptic
The bench was solid and brown. There must have been many who’ve sat there. Pondering. Eating. Kissing. Fighting. Sleeping. Too many strangers have shared one piece of equipment and not known it. Only the bench knows. How lucky this bench is.
I was sitting bymsyself on a bench in the park. I was in Ireland. I had just been to the Dublin zoo, alone. I was now at the park nearby. I was trying to look like I had a reason to be there. Or if I looked like a tourist, like I was the kind of tourist who was getting something out of the expirence.
The bench was a comfy alternative to the disfigured couch in the corner. It gave me a warm sense of security. Probably because of the memories it stirred up
It was that bench that held so many memories. The one that defined being young and growing older. It seemed as though each time in my life related to a groove, notch or cut. It was never a smooth bench.
the bench is hard against my back, the wood unforgiving under my thighs, i want to squirm myself into a confortable shape, into a safer place but still i have to sit here, the cuffs biting into my skin, waiting, waiting for my fate
I sat at the bench and looked straight at my teatcher. She was looking back at me, waving a paper in her old hand, shouting and demanding to know what was fun about “this”.
I stood. I left.
the bench was resting in the sad. it had been a hard day. not much movement but the people had definitely been larger. and then there had been that little child, not yet in complete control of his bowels. oh it was a hard life he had, sitting all day in the sand. that poor little bench, he definitely needed to rest.
they are beautiful in parks or old ones to capture or take photos of, the old wood they are made of, the different material used on them maybe some carving sometimes.
I sat and I sat and I thought. I looked around and up and down, at the sidewalk at sparrows at a scarved student head down but i never looked right at it
Right at the slats and the green paint and the little plaque but I’ll never know what the plaque said
Two friends on a bench, waiting for something to break the silence. Nothing breaks it, but they wait, they wait. Why are they waiting for it to be broken, when they can break it any time they wish? Suddenly, the bench breaks beneath them
The bench was cold. It reminded him of his childhood. When Dad used to sit and watch them play on the playground. You would fall and Dad would stand up. You would come down the slide and Dad would smile. But now the smiles were gone. The bench was cold and your heart was too. Why? Because Dad was gone.
The tool marks were visible on the leg where the chamfer led into the wedged seat. Master Alouitius leaned over the boy – That will be seen in one hundred years from now -you will be known by those marks — it is your memorial -& mine.
I sat on the bench and stared at my shoes. I don’t know why…I just did. Sometimes I like to think of strange things as I sit on benches and stare at shoes. It’s how I contemplate all of life’s great mysteries. I even have special bench-sitting, shoe-staring shoes. They’re the only ones I can ever get any really good thought out of. You should try it some time. It’s a great exercise.
Snow drapes the wood sealing in a moisture unknown to the summer. A woman bundles her baby tight as she walks her stroller down the winding path. The path is guarded by stiff unmovable benches, which neither invites nor disregards a person to sit upon the cold wet wood.
bench is used for sitting
it can be found in classrooms,parks and at other public places.
benches are mostly made up of wood but they can also be made of metal such as iron,steel etc.
benches are often less in number than the actual requirements.
One day I was sitting on a bench, and a man came and sat next to me. He was very old, his hair very grey. He was alone, it seemed, no one with him except his dog. His dog seemed to be his only companion. I thought it’d be good karma to strike up conversation with the old man, so I said “what’s his name?” He said “this is little Wendel. I think he likes you.”
A little man with a green vest sat on that bench over there last Friday. He held up two balloons and sang old timey songs. The one you used to hear your parents play on their record players. A little girl approached him and instead of giving her one of the balloons, he barked at her. Loudly. Repeatedly. It was the strangest thing.
I hope to spend this afternoon on a bench in the park. The forecasters have promised sun (do we believe them?) and so I shall take my books and my pens, leave the dreaded laptop at home, and work in sunlight. Bliss!
Concrete benches. If there’s anything I know it’s concrete benches. Unforgiving. Never warming. No matter how long you lay on it, it will never become warm.
I sit on you oh bench and I don’t know what has happened on you….when I really think it grosses me out…and whenever I wear white I make sure you are not dirty…..oh bench…my feet love you. :3
The old man at the bar was called Bench
They called him that because he played professional ball
But never played a single game.
He just sat on the sideline.
They made fun of him
And yet
He sat on that bench
next to Lou Gherig
He sat next to greatness
Closer than any of them ever did.
i sat on the bench wandering about the trodden flowers in the garden lying there…….even they wud hv adored the branches and wud hv defined beauty once upon a tym……..but once upon a time
The bench was cold as I slid my chest over the top. The air was icy, frigid, unlike the man behind me that pawed at my skirt. I took a deep breath of cold air and waited.
there he is. how i long to sit beside him. to tap his foot with my rainboot. to know his scent. he probably smells like leaves. but here i am, sitting on a park bench, staring at the boy I will never smell.
I sat on the bench next to my mother. She was feeding the pigeons. I never understood why she felt the urge to do it. They didn’t need the bread. Certainly not any more than I did. Yet she still fed them, everyday. Even when I was hungry, she fed them. They were more her children than I ever was. I hated her a little bit for that. I hated the pigeons more. Stupid birds. But it was hardly their fault. It wasn’t really my mother’s fault either. She was rather mad. Closer to completely, actually.
the old man sat on the bench in deep thought about the world. He had an interesting beard and a yellow piar of socks. An ealderly woman walked by She sat down by the man and asked him how his day had been. He was taken aback by this strange behavior and wondered why she was asking him such a strange question.
Is the place where you sit when you are tired. I always had a favorite bench. Be careful, don’t sit on a freshly painted bench as I did one time. Thank you.
She sat on the bench, watching the birds, feeling the winding flowing through her hair. She smelt the freshly cut grass and the mud. Everything seemed more alive to her today than ever before. She wanted life to stay like this.
I sat on a bench in a park and some beautiful girl sat next to me. Her name was Leanne and i couldn’t help but notice how fast my heart was pounding. I was scared she could hear it through my chest. I stared at her beautiful hair flow into the wind as she sat not but 3 feet from me.
sit write cloud hmmm people birds and fall in love in a sunday evening during a picnic wow what a lovely nice days will be a memory forever ill love you too bad u maybeeeee not feeling the same ? or im a little too late? well now im on the path of my life plz God help me hahahahaha whatever dude ! :) pet pet pet ditooooo lucuuu woohoooo hug hug hug hahahahha crazierrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Bench is cool whn some wants to sit to learn things.I have over many times find interested to use bench in learning at my young days.
totem hazırlamış olduğum için şu an vicdanen içim rahat ama ya yanılıyorsam bu saçmalığa o kadar güvenmemeliysem ya…ama içimi rahatlatmak …falan falan…
that bench, that unforgettable bench that stood between me and the one i love, that undeniable bench, that uncrossable bench was the infinite, silent decision to end it with me.
there was a bench and guys drunk from it, whlst trying to find what’s going on with their babies and wives and where next holiday should be among them was a sceptic
sit, lay sleep, die, red, long broken, park , picknick, not playing, baseball, basketball, warm, not play,
The bench was solid and brown. There must have been many who’ve sat there. Pondering. Eating. Kissing. Fighting. Sleeping. Too many strangers have shared one piece of equipment and not known it. Only the bench knows. How lucky this bench is.
I sat on a green bench beside the quiet flowing river. Light breezy day… no one seems to be around. may be all the busy with the daily buzz of life..
I was sitting bymsyself on a bench in the park. I was in Ireland. I had just been to the Dublin zoo, alone. I was now at the park nearby. I was trying to look like I had a reason to be there. Or if I looked like a tourist, like I was the kind of tourist who was getting something out of the expirence.
The bench was a comfy alternative to the disfigured couch in the corner. It gave me a warm sense of security. Probably because of the memories it stirred up
It was that bench that held so many memories. The one that defined being young and growing older. It seemed as though each time in my life related to a groove, notch or cut. It was never a smooth bench.
the bench is hard against my back, the wood unforgiving under my thighs, i want to squirm myself into a confortable shape, into a safer place but still i have to sit here, the cuffs biting into my skin, waiting, waiting for my fate
I sat at the bench and looked straight at my teatcher. She was looking back at me, waving a paper in her old hand, shouting and demanding to know what was fun about “this”.
I stood. I left.
the bench was resting in the sad. it had been a hard day. not much movement but the people had definitely been larger. and then there had been that little child, not yet in complete control of his bowels. oh it was a hard life he had, sitting all day in the sand. that poor little bench, he definitely needed to rest.
they are beautiful in parks or old ones to capture or take photos of, the old wood they are made of, the different material used on them maybe some carving sometimes.
I sat and I sat and I thought. I looked around and up and down, at the sidewalk at sparrows at a scarved student head down but i never looked right at it
Right at the slats and the green paint and the little plaque but I’ll never know what the plaque said
Two friends on a bench, waiting for something to break the silence. Nothing breaks it, but they wait, they wait. Why are they waiting for it to be broken, when they can break it any time they wish? Suddenly, the bench breaks beneath them
The bench was cold. It reminded him of his childhood. When Dad used to sit and watch them play on the playground. You would fall and Dad would stand up. You would come down the slide and Dad would smile. But now the smiles were gone. The bench was cold and your heart was too. Why? Because Dad was gone.
An old man sat on a bench at a park. He was alone. He read the paper. Pigeons cooed at his feet.
The tool marks were visible on the leg where the chamfer led into the wedged seat. Master Alouitius leaned over the boy – That will be seen in one hundred years from now -you will be known by those marks — it is your memorial -& mine.
there,s a bench of … Wait! I dunno what is bench as i am originally french …. but there’s a bench of apple … imma right? :D Well, see ya next time.
I sat on the bench and stared at my shoes. I don’t know why…I just did. Sometimes I like to think of strange things as I sit on benches and stare at shoes. It’s how I contemplate all of life’s great mysteries. I even have special bench-sitting, shoe-staring shoes. They’re the only ones I can ever get any really good thought out of. You should try it some time. It’s a great exercise.
Snow drapes the wood sealing in a moisture unknown to the summer. A woman bundles her baby tight as she walks her stroller down the winding path. The path is guarded by stiff unmovable benches, which neither invites nor disregards a person to sit upon the cold wet wood.
bench is used for sitting
it can be found in classrooms,parks and at other public places.
benches are mostly made up of wood but they can also be made of metal such as iron,steel etc.
benches are often less in number than the actual requirements.
One day I was sitting on a bench, and a man came and sat next to me. He was very old, his hair very grey. He was alone, it seemed, no one with him except his dog. His dog seemed to be his only companion. I thought it’d be good karma to strike up conversation with the old man, so I said “what’s his name?” He said “this is little Wendel. I think he likes you.”
A little man with a green vest sat on that bench over there last Friday. He held up two balloons and sang old timey songs. The one you used to hear your parents play on their record players. A little girl approached him and instead of giving her one of the balloons, he barked at her. Loudly. Repeatedly. It was the strangest thing.
I hope to spend this afternoon on a bench in the park. The forecasters have promised sun (do we believe them?) and so I shall take my books and my pens, leave the dreaded laptop at home, and work in sunlight. Bliss!
Concrete benches. If there’s anything I know it’s concrete benches. Unforgiving. Never warming. No matter how long you lay on it, it will never become warm.
I sit on you oh bench and I don’t know what has happened on you….when I really think it grosses me out…and whenever I wear white I make sure you are not dirty…..oh bench…my feet love you. :3
The old man at the bar was called Bench
They called him that because he played professional ball
But never played a single game.
He just sat on the sideline.
They made fun of him
And yet
He sat on that bench
next to Lou Gherig
He sat next to greatness
Closer than any of them ever did.
i sat on the bench wandering about the trodden flowers in the garden lying there…….even they wud hv adored the branches and wud hv defined beauty once upon a tym……..but once upon a time
The bench was cold as I slid my chest over the top. The air was icy, frigid, unlike the man behind me that pawed at my skirt. I took a deep breath of cold air and waited.
there he is. how i long to sit beside him. to tap his foot with my rainboot. to know his scent. he probably smells like leaves. but here i am, sitting on a park bench, staring at the boy I will never smell.
The bench was full of other players
None of them me.
A tall guy with no friends
from Spain
I could not communicate
and they made fun of
my lithp.
I sat on the bench next to my mother. She was feeding the pigeons. I never understood why she felt the urge to do it. They didn’t need the bread. Certainly not any more than I did. Yet she still fed them, everyday. Even when I was hungry, she fed them. They were more her children than I ever was. I hated her a little bit for that. I hated the pigeons more. Stupid birds. But it was hardly their fault. It wasn’t really my mother’s fault either. She was rather mad. Closer to completely, actually.
There is an old bench in the park. It is not big and painted in green paint.
the old man sat on the bench in deep thought about the world. He had an interesting beard and a yellow piar of socks. An ealderly woman walked by She sat down by the man and asked him how his day had been. He was taken aback by this strange behavior and wondered why she was asking him such a strange question.
Is the place where you sit when you are tired. I always had a favorite bench. Be careful, don’t sit on a freshly painted bench as I did one time. Thank you.
She sat on the bench, watching the birds, feeling the winding flowing through her hair. She smelt the freshly cut grass and the mud. Everything seemed more alive to her today than ever before. She wanted life to stay like this.
I sat on a bench in a park and some beautiful girl sat next to me. Her name was Leanne and i couldn’t help but notice how fast my heart was pounding. I was scared she could hear it through my chest. I stared at her beautiful hair flow into the wind as she sat not but 3 feet from me.
sit write cloud hmmm people birds and fall in love in a sunday evening during a picnic wow what a lovely nice days will be a memory forever ill love you too bad u maybeeeee not feeling the same ? or im a little too late? well now im on the path of my life plz God help me hahahahaha whatever dude ! :) pet pet pet ditooooo lucuuu woohoooo hug hug hug hahahahha crazierrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr