Poem By Thaddeus Shane Whittington

The days are far too short, the slaying of me is such a petty sport.
Too far away on any given day...hearts words spoken in dismay.
This torture that is the end of me, I wait to use those specialist of words...we.
Callipygous, and I wait for that delight...two hands to embrace, they know my plight.

Comments about Morena

for a joke.- your hands how i wish they were something else your tears how i wish they were something else your love how i wish it is for me

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Other poems of WHITTINGTON


Chasing dreams…fleeting moments in time...release eludes me still
Pushing pulling tugging carrying a heavy load…I will


What I may and what I may not.
A random superfluous thought.


A morality play...ignorant opinions hold sway, deft minions of a deaf, dumb and blind god.

Why the back and the white, when grey will incite. Never judge and bear the fetid fruit.