Isolation
Loneliness...
Oh, loneliness!
What will I do when you are through?
What will I write at dead of night?
When the doom is near
And the rest of the world
Trembles in fear
Loneliness.
Oh, loneliness...
One in a million
The temptress... She is always dressed in red, Pale skin, juicy leaps, fine breasts That kind that they call le famme fatale, Woman worth to die for, I'd say many have fallen Few remain And her venom is like of a black widow spider Deadly and numbing, such is her love _____________________________________________________ Help me earn a living helping you earn a living as a poet/poetess buy a subscription or join the FREE discord: https://whop.com/prockstem/
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