Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.117.9.230
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
As time flies, so her emotion swiftly fries,
As life frowns to dust, so her affection swiftly drowns to lust,
As love turns to coal, so her smile swiftly runs to the cold,
As sunset sets away, so her truth swiftly upsets the root of likeness, and erects away the boldness of trust, 
but her hate doesn't rate me to roasted rat, because her hate is wingless, and no other can make her sweat and melt to hashes like I do.  

Damn! I’m damned, if I get soak in her socking beauty,
Damn!  I’m damned, if I get stolen by her golden smile,
Damn! I’m damned, if I don’t bench her lioness sex drive, I’ll infinitely feel less, like a quenched man. 
Damn! I’m damned, if I merge with her chameleon cries and battalion kisses.

If I give in fully, just for the sake of ‘be a real man’, not 'a steel man',
my life will end up like the life of a North American bug, which inflicts painful bite on love and life.
When I transparently decide to give into love, all I get is:
Vultures smoking cigarette in an uncultured manner,
Kangaroo's doing Michael Jackson’s moonwalk in a live show in Cameroon,
Monkeys ordering for coffee, while wooing female donkeys  
Zebras playing golf, with liberal views,  
Lizards rearing Afro and trying to reawaken Lazarus from the dead,
Dingo's wearing costly tuxedos in Mexico, and speaking Spanish fluently,
Frogs driving Rang-Rove jeeps, in a foggy weather
Snakes wearing condoms to nibble into snacks,
Female Goats, wearing sexy underpants, to enable them float in a sinking Titanic boat
Bareheaded demons and bears drinking chilled bears together in a beheaded mood and using chilly pepper, to chill down their temper,
Horses babysitting housewives

I trip endlessly! 
lost in a confused mood and temper, for she false me, she false me not.

I limp endlessly!
No matter how we try to put souls together to make our love bright and wealthy like the brightened face of Paris and the fat pocket of Las Vegas, 
We always end up creating a poverty of love. 

I have relentlessly tried praying forcefully for our love, 
but I end up noticing that people, who aggressively pray the most for love, end up marrying angry praying-mantis.  

I will just have to remain light-footed in love,  and let her featherweight affections for me, turn to true feelings, or get carried away, because she false me, she false me not.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required