Sort of strange how a blog of sorts
Exists just to express my thoughts
Is born and breeds and becomes thus:
Memoirs of a growing lust.
For you that read would you agree,
That if you knew these words from me
Were here because my thoughts of you
Seeded here and then they grew?
So what is here in prose and verse
Is looked upon as something worse
Than to sit back and take a stance
Of expressionless indifference?
For I claim not to know what or how
A woman looks upon this now,
With eyes that fawn at this romance
Or curl away from an advance?
Is it wrong for man to write down lines
That speak his mind like such a crime?
Is this what we as people reject
When once was seen as high respect?
Or do some, most, see what truly is
When reading line of sweetest this
The only way I can express
What I feel within my chest?
© Kris Blackburn 06/03/16