A rapt desire clouds the sight
obscuring sanity in response
with best intents put aside
for the wants deep inside
the source of angst is the loins
hidden in the breadth of time
only shown in privacy
in a shared audience
wishing more than life provides
the taint of lust won't relent
still on the side of wrong
always damned by the crowd
if only life was less cruel
to state a preference for abuse
this harsh rebut does not blunt
focus of the craving wants.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20190621.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem