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The Urge

Out of the blue when the universe played Got bored with my unshakable conduct Brought out a flesh from a memory made Perchance to test the thorn that has been plucked. Dinner begins no harm; Scotch does not cut Even unsaid language must not perplex Yet longing for the presence turned us shut Fast paced occurrence is what he projects. Got carried away with this missed habit Not denying ecstasy being felt Though bothered by ways acting as unfit Just sailed along until nothing was held. Mutual fondness maybe at its peak However, deep connection was still weak. Guilty of being a slave to that pain Much more with such shallow drawing power The saying, “third time’s the charm”, is insane Six seasons had it for the frail flower. Putting up a struggle with the contrast Causes the weariness of my texture Pleasing the established circle had passed Offer consolation for such gesture. I need that distinctive pea in my pod One who reflects himself on my flawed glass I need that impulse no matter how odd One who can keep up as far as it lasts. The urge deserves to be in highest form Never again be deceived by such norm.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

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