“Dont Tell Mama” – Poem By: The Wood For Trees

HE GRIPS TIGHT
A WANDER-LUST SUFFERER’S DELIGHT
PUSHES HARD – LIKE CHAINS CATCHING
GEARS GRINDING
THE PAIN HE GIVES HURTS RIGHT.
MY HIPS, MY LIPS…
I GLADLY LET HIM.
THE FREAK IN ME SHOCKS,
FROM SATAN TO CHERUBIM
BUT NO ONE WOULD BE MORE BLOWN AWAY
THAN MAMA – WHAT WOULD SHE SAY?
AT HOW I GIVE IN.

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