I wreak of desperate masturbation, <br />Two days consoling myself, <br />Trying to find happiness, <br />In this mundane place, <br />Dreaming of being warm, <br />Dreaming of being wet, <br />Between your extraordinary thighs. <br />For I was there in gethsemone, <br />When they took the Nazarene. <br />He did not kick, <br />He did not weep, <br />He rolled over, <br />Like a spaniel when kicked. <br />As will I on your return. <br />Two days of desperation, <br />Weeping like a lost child, <br />There's no one to feed me, <br />No one to help me dress. <br />When you come home <br />Don't depend on me, <br />I don't depend on me, <br />I am the lost child <br />Hungry, cold and alone.<br /><br />H.J. Shreeve<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/don-t-think-too-much-into-this-poem/
