Exposed - Poem by Donald Yates
I hope not my hand I'll tip
for I thought I heard a rip.
I could just stand behind a tree
and perhaps no one will see.
The wind flows through the air so free
across my back side and over me.
Oh Oh, someone I hear
they'll see me I fear.
Don't let them stand and leer
at my skinny exposed rear.
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The Road Not Taken
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