thebroadwayparisian

When I am with you I feel a sense of Magic Paris, you are mine

The colors of my heart Red, white, and blue? no, Bleu, Blanc, et Rouge What is the difference, you may ask? These colors In French create a thrilling love. A special kind of love. A beautiful song rushing through my vanes begging me to sing along. How can I, France, if you are not there with me? You are too delicate for this lack of attention to your melody. That is why I listen to the Bleu Blanc et Rouge. The Colors of my Heart

It was 161 years ago the Disappearance of  Allan   Poe New York city is where to go for the Peculiar  Allan   Poe Delirious and drunk perhaps by some red Bordeaux for the confused  Allan   Poe And went of to Baltimore's land, way down low for the bothered  Allan   Poe He was found at a house, how we desire to know about the journey to the cabin, for the disturbed  Allan   Poe He was found on the floor, oh no, and was taken to care that sick and unwell  Allan   Poe Still blacked out and was doing so-so he died a few days later that Sunday of  Allan   Poe The mystery remains in life and in this not so much of a rondeau but thi

Edgar   Allan        Poe… His death… If he was alive the day of his death… he would have written about it… correct? Was he drunk or was he blind? Was he distressed or confused?                                       … Baltimore                             …Maryland New York New York… To take the wrong train is foolish To lay unconscious on a stranger's wooden floor is inconceivable When the three days past you find once again Annabelle Lee… …is there With Poe         Allan, Poe                                  …Edgar