If with whom you ask I lay,
I say that can happen only in May.
It is not for sex I currently pray,
I definitely don’t wanna be AIDS’ prey.
If with whom you ask I spend my time with, none.
Ladies do propose but what I do? I shun!
My story on love is at now a statue,
And I’ll get rid of it to protect my virtue.
In the West of Grim a garden I trim,
I’ll run my leave as soon as I find a new pool to swim.
The real one or perhaps I mistook as did not last a moment
Before truth spoilt the merriment.
There were many afterwards in what we were I couldn’t define,
But God got me out for a future that is divine.
Unto them they wanted me to refine,
But I don’t worship what a chicken could vilify.
And then came the she from my mother’s town,
Who claimed qualified to wear my crown.
For her enhanced posteriors I fell,
It happened a story very boring to tell.
The private business salted it;
Too sweet for me to eat.
But at a point she made it sour;
Don’t bother to hear more, its too complicated to tour.
An agony of love overtook me,
But the reality of life rescued me.
And when I was freed from the chains of the fake true love,
I became so tough and retired into golf.
The touches in darkness;
The twinkle in the eyes;
The lips touching lips;
The finger tracing the body.
The buttons undone;
The fingers running through the hair;
The encampment of boobs;
The tiny fingers on the hairy chest.
The flesh in flesh;
The promises incited by arousal;
The talks in the shade of a tree;
The exchange of smiles.
The hands in hands;
The emotional suffering;
The waiting; the disappointment;
The separation; the regrets.
The tearful stories;
The lecture of experience;
The lookout; the hopes;
I was there once.