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Literature Text
See this?
I wonder if you can tell me what it is.
I've been holding onto it for all my life,
Squeezing with all my might,
Afraid to let go.
Want it?
If you name it you can borrow it.
The problem with it is, it belongs to no-one,
It wanders of its own accord,
Regardless of the abuse it finds.
And by the way,
Guesses don't count.
I wonder if you can tell me what it is.
I've been holding onto it for all my life,
Squeezing with all my might,
Afraid to let go.
Want it?
If you name it you can borrow it.
The problem with it is, it belongs to no-one,
It wanders of its own accord,
Regardless of the abuse it finds.
And by the way,
Guesses don't count.
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Comments3
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For a little hormonal spurt,
That ain't half bad.
That ain't half bad.