Brewage tasted sour
Sluts dancing wild
Oh an illusion from the tour
With the discordant, sluts mild

Magic felt with the pleasure
Dancing to the tranquil drum
Booty squandered in pressure
Plundering it, she summoned a quorum

In the next quarter, illusions evoked
The calamities to have ceased
Now her betterhalf got cuckolded
Fancies arose as she teased

by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

Other poems of WAISON (93)

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