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What makes you a better man?
The support of a good woman. A woman, a good
one can convert the worst miserable man to a useful human being.
If he has nothing, she becomes
the light at the end of the tunnel- his breath of
fresh air…his SOMETHING!
A woman’s love can cure all life’s pain and
suffering. It can turn a cold heart to a new warm
beating one. She can create hope, a new meaning,
erase imperfections. LOVE is her power. Pride and ego
is his disease, which without her can lead to his DOOM.
Darkness can surround him- blind him. But her
voice, even a whisper can lead him to the golden light.
Her touch…recharges him. Powerful feelings overwhelms
his senses. If he feels misguided, she can
show him the way. Her body, his learning instrument.
She’ll guide him to her pleasures, give herself to him,
all so he can experience the best pleasures her body
supplies to his lust and fantasies-demanding nothing
in return, only to see him satisfied. Hear his heartbeat
as she lays her head on his chest…Happiness!
Hearing the rhythm of his heart and the sound of
air intake in his lungs…Peacefulness!
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On that hour, minute and seconds
On that day, that year, that summer my last breath was inhaled – exhaled.
In this darkness my spirit lingers without direction – a maze where is my way out!?
Though my physical form ages, my soul slowly disappears. Once a while, loved ones come to share what life has dealt them: The pressures, the stress; Their ups and downs; their sadness and their loss; Their happiness and joy; Their experiences and success – most importantly
This is my cemetery, my resting place.
My journey stumbled to a halt. My personal accomplishments and errors, nullified. Memories frozen in time. Ironically, when I close my eyelids – the darkness shows me a life I shared with you before getting here, one that I haven’t been able to move on from.
Your scent, your touch, sexy giggle, your kiss and teasing…
After each month passes and the rotation starts all over, I’m pulled more and more away from your thoughts becoming a “used to be”; walking this dark road alone, like a ghost: still present, but unable to be seen – life goes on as it’s meant to. Happy people, new relationships blossoming, new life enters this world…How I miss it…How I miss you.
I keep walking without knowing my destination. My name a distant memory. A soul locked away in his own personal tomb, in this tomb the year appearing is: August 22nd, 2003.
The year my existence disappeared from yours…
By M. Guerrero