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I look to the sands
I receive nothing but time
In morals and turpitude
I'm way out of line
I cut my teeth
on brashness and lust
In my judgement alone
I would not trust
Feral are my leanings
the animal in me
Will be tamed by the damsel
who tries to set me free
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Author Notes
Try to find some sensitivity in this poem if you can. I'm still trying to understand what makes a good poem. I'm not there yet. Something is wrong with the editor(me). I can’t get it to format that first part correctly.
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EeanBlack
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