- Erotic Poetry
- Hyman Music
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I block the canal.
I keep the semen out.
I stay until
A erect dick leaving no doubt.
I keep her safe
Without a progeny.
I keep her safe
Until someone breaks me.
I keep her safe
Until I’m broke
By a hard dick
And one firm stroke.
When they break me
There’s a little red.
A small round stain
On the sheets of the bed.
It could be just
From sitting on a horse
Then I’d be gone,
And she, of course,
Could be a mom,
With tiny, cooing child,
And without me
Her life may be wild.
We Hymans exist
For our own folks
Surviving those several
Harsh, brutal pokes.
Mostly we’re short lived,
And prone to be broken.
Until those fateful words
Are quietly spoken:
“She’s ruptured her Hyman.
She is a grown woman now.
No longer a girl.
A mature lady. Oh wow.”
We Hymans are dedicated
To keep her canal closed.
To keep our owners
From being exposed.
Keeping her uterus
Totally enclosed.
And doing our job
To keep the route closed
For sperm to swim through
Completely unopposed.
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