The Screamer
Our children gone, our empty nest
now is our time to enjoy our zest,
then in our bedroom a problem arose
my wife's new freedom, she lost her compose.
With the children gone no one to hear
passions she would scream, no shame to bear.
Her cries of lust would fill the room
and reverberate all afternoon.
I would muffle her mouth, with my hand in fear
her excitement that our neighbors could hear.
A distraction to me, to say the least
I could only pray for quit and piece.
That noise put me off my given task
my performance suffered something I lack.
She would scream so loud my ears may pop.
"You sick pervert don't touch me!-Stop!"
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
