Freewill Amon

Rookie (18th Sept 1987)

This Is What You'Ve Made Me - Poem by Freewill Amon

I've so much jerked-off that the passion has become painful;
Not that I wanted to, but because I needed to.
It's all been about getting a temporal sexual healing
Though I stay put whenever I get the urge,
But I eff with it whenever the pain comes like a surge
I just grab my big-boy and do my hand-work.
CFS! This' what you've made me.

Now my li'l-thingy won't rise
Unless I brood on those erotic pictures in my head
I'm so sorry about those innocent women I've used
But neither have I touched the willing ones that flaunt their assets
CFS! This' what you've made me

I've not yet given up my cherry and I don't hope to do that with any kind of lady.
I don't really want to, but I can't put my want ahead of my need
I can only change my mind if and only if I get healed
Anyway, it makes no sense to jerk-off on a crying thing.
I can hear it calling for the ladies' li'l-girls
That's why I'm so Obsessed with sex like I'm possessed
CFS! This' what you've made me.

My lips are starving
My tongue is starving
My body is missing
My fingers are shaking
And my big-boy have been slaving for hunger
CFS! This is what you've made me.

When I try to kiss, I realize it's the screen
When I try to finger, I realize it's a paper
When I stick out my tongue to lick, I realize it's the air
When I scream ooh baby! .. I know I'm alone in my bed
When I groan and say: you're killing me.., I know it's all in my head
Lots of fantasies; pathetic trivialities
CFS! This' what you've made me.

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

This' about my miserable sexual life as a result of a disease called CFS (chronic fatigue syndrome) . You can Google it for more enlightenment.

It's like a stranger that comes into your life and then take control of you; over every move you make and every step you take. Though no one knows about its presence except you, because you look like every other person on the outside.

It's not communicable and it has no known cause and cure. I've been hoping on God for a miracle and I'll get it soon.

It's ok for you to know, but not ok at all for you to tell me sorry- I don't need it. Thanks for reading me.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, February 14, 2013

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