I wish I knew what the anwser was..
Giving me this pain in flow,
Always the winds with little clause,
Viewing different ways to blow.

Everyone tells me it will be fine,
Yelling inside my soul for some healing,
Oh how I wish for a rush in time,
Under which I will nolonger be dealing.

Through the pleasure and the happiness sprung,
Hell even dared not to wanta touch,
Even though, that didn't stop which has begun,
Wanting the parts, which I lacked such.

Oh, how our eyes are cruel,
Rendering us speechless in seasons,
Losing our selfs as fool,
Dicking us to a heart without reasons.

Battling in which we dare call love,
Uselessly trying to win,
Tiring the poor wings of the dove,
Even that, somehow a sin.

Virtually entrancing ourselfs in some,
Everyday tasks and emotional tombs,
Not believing it wrong by our own thumb,
Through the adventures of our own dooms.

How the succulent melons
And the roasted sausage,
Tend to lead our lustfull yellens,
Which only creates blockage.

Angry with my body,
Sorry for the pittiful clinging,
Never looking back;
That would be gaudy,
Even if I stopped singing,
Never losing my track.

Old storys in which we all droll
Urgently trying for a hearts bluff,
Giving the very last of my soul
Hell can't even make me enough...

thumbnail is © of k/g photography, and referenced here: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uv35Nseq3.....ken-branch.jpg