Relationships 2

Big Jocks sizing up their cocks
Young girls perking up their curls
Little minds taking up my time
I wish the world would be open and free

Happiness isn’t found at the bottom of the gene pool.

Fuck and run, what a big gun!
Can’t you tell the worlds going to hell
Fret and worry, we are all in a hurry
Intolerance rules while our children drool

Happiness isn’t found at the bottom of the gene pool.

Users cruse while nice guys loose
Catch 22 it’s nothing new
Chemical spill, no big deal
(it’s only viagra)
women want paychecks but no sweat on their necks

Wake up world
Happiness isn’t found at the bottom of the gene pool!

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Let me go

A heart beats
You can’t cheat life
Trust me he says
Why can’t I go home?

Alone in a white room
Strapped to a table
Wishing I’m able
To let go (let go!)

My lungs pump air
I don’t want to breath
Driven by machines
That force life into my body

Alone in a white room
Strapped to a table
Wishing I’m able
To let go (let go!)

The pain is intense
The medications
Only dull my sense
of time. (life?)
Let me go, free my soul,

Alone in a white room
Strapped to a table
Wishing I’m able
To let go (let go!)

I don’t want to be here
Can you live with your own fear?
This is not life
This is not death
Please let me go from here

Alone in a white room
Strapped to a table
Wishing I’m able
To let go (LET GO!)

1/17/00

Leigh’s Spell

Na’amah  stumbles into the Black Rose body ridged with pain.  She pauses in the doorway to catch her breath, letting the door close and latch behind her.  She reached out with her senses and nods, the place was empty.

She giggles, then gasps and arches as the pain flares inside her.  She staggers forward, leaning heavily on the railing leading to her office. 

Leigh, in her twisted haze of grief, had cast a spell on her.  She had cursed her to feel pain with joy, and the thought made her giggle again, which had her legs going weak under her.  She moans loudly, the pleasure, as always, racing behind the pain to wash over her.  Her body responding to the pain as it always does, as she was created to respond. 
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Relationships

Flights of Fancy
Light and free
Just a suggestion
But watch that tree

Long stem Roses
And passionate kisses
Some are hits
And some are misses

It might seem nice
Hugs galore
But soon he hints
About the door

You do what you can
To make him see
That life is good
Just him and me

Does it matter
Does he care?
For a while perhaps
But then pain you’ll share

With the rest of us.
Sorry and temped
To much in love
To see we were preempted.