A Flow Of Tears

Hands have no tears to flow, so sir commends  
How her eyes let tears trickle down that cheek;  
When she's disciplined, sir recommends  
That she just lets them flow. She will not speak.  
She lets emotion build as sir intends.  
   
When she is bared, across sir's knee, she waits,  
Remembering, before she had to bend,  
She took off all her clothing. Hesitate  
And she would suffer more. She's sure of it.  
Her guard's relaxed; but keeps that arse well-raised.  
   
Sir's palm will make her eyelids start to prick,  
And finally, as her backside is braised  
By spank after hard spank, at last she'll know,  
The firmest hand will mean her tears must flow.