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Groan Ass Man

The years and the  
Months go by
No one gives a
Shit about your
Time, least of all
You  
 
Moaning and  
Groaning into
Another poem
 
Brittle bones,
Brittle spirit
 
It comes near,
Then scurries  
Away
 
Times it by  
Twelve, carry
the two, and now
Weíre talking a small
Fortune  
 
You fucking think
This is easy?
 
Sexual urges?
Iíve mainly had
To take care of  
That myself
 
So what if all the
Women Iíve known
In my life were cool?
 
My writing knows
The truth  
 
 
Taurek
Written by Taurek
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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