It seems it doesn't work
The girls don't perk
The perverts lurk
It's not quite fair
Her beautiful hair
The clothes she wears
And when it tares
Through open lairs
Her gentle pairs
I see, though, in white snow
The bleeding heart below
Whoa Whoa Whoa
And within this agony
My own, her own, the bone
I am glad to see I am not the only one
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Author:
Jonas Robinson (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2022 11:24
- Comment from author about the poem: I know I have deeper bonds than what this conveys. It's just the way I felt at the time.
- Category: Erotic
- Views: 33
Offline)
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