Tuesday, December 20, 2011

A very quick poem...

She always came in the dead of night,
Bright light of day all but gone from her,
Spurring lust and shame,
Blame always laying with me,
Be it never the same,
Flame of love now long gone,
Spawning a new dark void,
Devoid of purpose, Devoid of hope,
Groping only to find soft soap and lies,
Chastised and compromised by her thighs,
Dies all love,
But the comes a shove from above,
Mourning dove undreamed of full of purrs,
Spurs thoughts of hers and drabs of affection,
Reflections of her complexion,
Rejection and shame,
Became comfort and fresh air,
Caring from a ball of fluff and fur. 

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