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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Pricksongs And Thorny Paths
"The art of degradation," he declares,
"Is something I partake of; you won't mind
The fact I must debase you." As he stares
And smiles so knowingly, I always find
I'm on the verge of crying; if I blush
Due to excitement, I'm fucking ashamed!
He knows how first to touch, and then to crush:
He'll satirise submission that's ingrained
In thorny paths he leads me along - rides,
Of coarse cock in 'whore' holes, ensure he'll sigh:
"Exquisite! Taste your victory; obliged
Though you so are to serve, pet." By and by
I know he'll revert back to roguery
And prick new tears through fine tuned mockery...
"Is something I partake of; you won't mind
The fact I must debase you." As he stares
And smiles so knowingly, I always find
I'm on the verge of crying; if I blush
Due to excitement, I'm fucking ashamed!
He knows how first to touch, and then to crush:
He'll satirise submission that's ingrained
In thorny paths he leads me along - rides,
Of coarse cock in 'whore' holes, ensure he'll sigh:
"Exquisite! Taste your victory; obliged
Though you so are to serve, pet." By and by
I know he'll revert back to roguery
And prick new tears through fine tuned mockery...
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