- Erotic Poetry
- Shame of a poet's soul
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
A whore called me insane
I slept with her to understand her brain
There was nothing there but cum stains
And lost boners laying long and vain
Ripe fruits, says the stoner
Ripe and juicy, like a boner
It's cold outside, foggy
It's time to sing, Winter songs
Though, burning in bed
Stoned alone, or with someone
I lie against the bed in shame
For even considering I was to blame
- COMMENTS
Lucky_Poundover 4 years agoSo I've spent that last five minutes trying to make logical sense of poem you've made and I've finally accepted that I can't figure it out through logic. So far the best theory I have of what your trying to say is something along the lines of: You slept with a woman, to whom you may or may not have at one time positive feelings for, but realize she really seems off or hurt. From what you can gather the reason for this is she has had a lot of problems with the opposite sex, and you were worried some how it was your fault. But either through asking other people who happen, to be a stoner ,or just simply you yourself stoning, you come to think that its not your fault. (I don't know if that part about winter songs is a reference I don't get or something else but I don't understand it)And somehow because of all that you somehow get shame?
