My Own Prison (TGIF!) by eekdog

Poser • Atmosphere/Mood • posted on Dec 16, 2016

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Description

TGIF indeed, enjoy your weekend my friends. And have a super holiday season. Also thank you for your time. Steve Song title by the band Creed. Credits: Ripped by: Rpublishing Jean's by: Exnem Hot Booties by: Rpublishing Old Asylum by: Mapps & Richardphotos

Production Credits

HC7 - Old Asylum

By mapps

$15.00 USD

Exnem Jeans Solution

By exnem

$9.95 USD 50% Off

$4.98 USD

Hot Booties

By RPublishing

$9.95 USD 50% Off

$4.98 USD

Comments (63)

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radioham

2:42PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

One way or another we all live in our own prison may be self made may be made by some else

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Diemamker

2:45PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

Outstanding image my friend!... this is how I was feeling the last few days!..

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romangirl

4:18PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

A great idea and image!

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Leilana

4:30PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

Such a wonderful image steve :)

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makennedy

4:31PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

Bummer, She could stay at my place!

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Sarahdar

5:30PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

great image, I know how she feels

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art-ella

5:47PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

Thanks for your greetings. With thanks back. The picture is beautiful, but also sad.

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Richardphotos

8:01PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

if she was real, she could be heaven for me!. great clothing and props

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calico_jester

9:05PM | Fri, 16 December 2016

Iron bars do not a prison make...

To Althea From Prison. - Poem by Richard Lovelace

I. When love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates; And my divine ALTHEA brings To whisper at the grates; When I lye tangled in her haire, And fetterd to her eye, The birds, that wanton in the aire, Know no such liberty.

II. When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying THAMES, Our carelesse heads with roses bound, Our hearts with loyal flames; When thirsty griefe in wine we steepe, When healths and draughts go free, Fishes, that tipple in the deepe, Know no such libertie.

III. When (like committed linnets) I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetnes, mercy, majesty, And glories of my King. When I shall voyce aloud, how good He is, how great should be, Inlarged winds, that curle the flood, Know no such liberty.

IV. Stone walls doe not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Mindes innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedome in my love, And in my soule am free, Angels alone that sore above Enjoy such liberty.

Richard Lovelace

credo quia est absurdum

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