Empty Bed

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Lonely man. Lonely night.
199 words
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I lie here all alone on my empty bed.
Rather than go out and have fun instead.

I'm stuck without a woman to love.
I'm as lonely as a white winged dove.

I remain indoors bored to death.
For once I want to hold my breath.

I ask all around with not much success.
Instead of taking off a woman's dress.

Pleasure remains missing in my dull life.
My heart feels as if cut by a sharp knife.

I start to cry buckets full of tears.
I've held them for so many years.

Every woman I meet are so beautiful.
If I had one on my arm it'd be wonderful.

Touching myself doesn't feel right.
I hate being lonely night after night.

I want to feel the pleasure and pain.
Treat my body like a sweet candy cane.

I want to feel warm hands on my face.
Staring directly at some leather and lace.

I want to feel kisses from luscious lips.
And a view at some shapely hips.

I want to feel bodies becoming one.
And stay close until the rising sun.

I lie here still and continue my fantasy.
My head is ready for a full lobotomy.

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