Poetry

Suspense

Its this kind I just cant stand

I want it yesterday

I want it to be tomorrow

Itís so tangible you can touch it

So pungent you can smell it

Iím famished, I can taste it

 

The mans so close, I could touch him

Heís so warm, I can smell him

Itís so ripe I can eat him

Itís the kind I just canít stand

I want it now

I want it to be now

 

However, maybe itís the kind thatís worth waiting for

 


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