The Bosom Of Truth Poem by Lev Brekhman

The Bosom Of Truth



Your wife's bosom's warmth
Still lingers in the bed.
You feel yourself a worm,
You're weak and slightly wet.
Impotency is just a flag
You're throwing, all white.
You want your marriage soonest break,
Too short for this is night.

Thursday, October 16, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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