She came to him in a moment of weakness
Said what he needed to hear at a time he wanted to hear
Those sweet words from her lips, promising pleasures and limitless bliss
She stroked his cheek and kissed his eyes, gently each one at a time
Her voice soothed him like a lullaby
Seduction, lyrics, gambits and tricks, her game was on, he was growing weak
Slowly, she is taking control, over his mind, body and soul
He surrenders a minute, and takes her all in, victory, glory, finally, she wins
Convincing she was of what she thought best, just a split second to let his eyes rest
Crumpling metal was the sound that he heard, just before he careened off the road
Conscious now, shaken and bruised, he crawled from the wreck all confused
What was he thinking when he listened to her
Standing there watching the heap, stunned and grateful, unable to speak
Thankful for life that was almost lost, those forty winks came at quite a cost
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.
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