One more day to see her face
One more day for her embrace
One more day to see her smile
One more day, I'm so beguiled
One more day I must wait
For that sweet day, it is my fate
One more day to have her taste
One more day to feel her shake
One more day I'll gladly wait
To have my manhood laid to waste
One more day for her return
To this bloke that she still yearns
One more day to hear the sound
Of sensual obscenities from lips unbound
One more day to feel her flesh
Quivering from each caress
One more day to hear her moan
One more day, she'll soon be home
I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
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