New Love


  • Love

    New Love

    the trees are budding

    the flowers are blooming

    the need to be free is rising

    longing for the lust to end and desires to be fulled

    in the shower and behind closed doors

    lets have the craziest, wildest dreams filled

    let the world see it in our faces the love, the desires

    as it builds and grows before our eyes

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    toraalsmom’s Poems (7)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    My bounsing Baby boy 0
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    New Love 0
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