Roamed Struggles: 4 of 6

Many lost and acquainted hearts,
With long lost hope and trapped decisions,
Claimed; Nothing good of any kind
Happened after two o’clock in a morning
Unfortunately, many habitants of that place
Believed it, failing to accept a fact:
If something was true,
They never had to believe
Those demented perverts lied
And no, though it was already past two o’clock,
In a morning, before noon
I was not extremely intoxicated,
Neither smothered, by my target’s looks,
Or groovy vibes
It was all true and happening, I felt it all;
Through my two exploring fingers
Sucked deep, into the treasure of my target
A path to the treasure, was tight
In a precise manner, I envisioned it
I was right, I never had to believe
And it all happened,
Sixteen minutes past three o’clock, in a morning
A time, past two o’clock, before noon
I was glad, I never put into consideration
Words of those demented perverts
Although I was having a blast,
Deeply adventuring into the treasure
I eagerly logged on, to immaturely rub it all
Straight into faces,
Of the lost and acquainted hearts
They had to be grateful,
I never planned to rub it straight,
Into their bosoms
A life story of time
They would all have, to tell on a night out
Just like that one
On a sad note, I felt remorse and instead,
Sent them a huge warm hug,
Through blowing winds
To peacefully comfort them
All the demented perverts had to do,
Was to open their hands widely
Embracing the hug, and take it all in
Many remained stubborn
They refused to accept, sticking to old beliefs
Randomly and unwisely spread,
Throughout their lives:
A new struggle, waited

Tapped from HeteroSexual Chaos, a Decided Entrapment. Enjoy it in electronic and audio formats from your favorite store or library. All Rights Reserved.

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