What does it take to feel alive?

The hug of a mother? The pull of a trigger? A new high to desire?

The social networking of this world has lost its true form and art. The mouth is not for lying rather for cleansing.

Honesty is a form of quenching.

You'll never lose the people and things that truly matter, those are the artifacts and tools to feel alive. Life itself.

Long legs
Smooth back
Nice racks
A ***** that does not slack
Looking good from the back
Where there should be no lack
Always showing a little crack
Easily tracked
That would make me pull it out and jack
That is not a little snack
****
The way they walk and talk
Watching, makes you want to attack
Double back
Down boy, it want bounce back
That big mac
Ridding bare back
A man that does not lack
A big swinging sack
A six pack
White or black

****
Getting it on
With either or

I’m afraid of walking down this road.
Terrified that one day I will not be able to go back and smell the flowers.
That all of the beautiful scenes of my youth will have passed.
And that I somehow did not designate enough time,
To hold them close, to see them clear, and somehow make them truly last.
I’m fearful of roads, because of that.
And I fear how quickly underneath my feet they seem to pass.
Created by these human hands, designated by men, and traveled by kings.
The fear of walking down such roads too quickly,
Is most definitely a haunting thing.