The cradle of love, awaits you,
As it does for every man.
It is comfort, mixed with passion
And where all life, began.
Let me whisper all the sweetness
That your ears can stand to hear,
And I will crawl into your cradle
To allow our passion to be here.
My mind is running away from me.
I think I need a pre frontal lobotomy.
Thoughts that are stuffed in every place,
Wedged in cracks or any empty space.
I need some time. Time to think
Or I may have to turn to drink.