Oh my gorgeous partner,
Have you forgot it already?

You spent the night awake,
Ended the action with a splurt,
And we spent the night together,
High on fairer hormones we were.

Boosted by your ethereal voice,
And the lightest clapping noise,
Between our action as you jump,
Y**es, up and down on my crotch!!!

There was a girl named Nancy,
Her habits were all outgoing.
Once she became too busy,
Directly for nine months.
Thanks to all of her habits,
Blocked're all the incoming.
She did not want PregNancy.

She was impregnated by a boy,
His hormones uncontrollable.
Worked not any of the Pills,
Now busied for 9 months.
Used to each 1 of the thrills,
But none of it was avoidable.
Thanks to her being a tomboy..

Nancy was the girl in pregnancy,
Her repentance was no point.
Old habits are hard to go,
She may not be loyal.
Now she hides it,
For avoiding it.
The insult...

As for the boy here,
Aged just 15 like her.
He fumbled to suicide,
And she was destroyed.
She can't name the baby,
Not now, not now at all.
How will she name the baby?

As it was supposed to be,
She will behave a ******,
Will she name him Jesus?

{Act One-Darkness}
<>
There are no stars tonight,
only the cold lifeless dark.
No hearts on fire,
nor passion plays.
Only the faerie dance of fire flies,
and the myth of love.

{Act Two-Searching}
<>
Are we just bags of hormones
either fortunately or unfortunately
imbued with the chemicals of life?
Will there be a day that we will be singled out
for our levels of hormones?
Will a new prejudice arise?
Oh... she's 68.3% hormonal,
he's 97% hormoneless.....
Will there be hormone police,
checking your levels before you buy a gun,
or have a baby,
or get married?
(I should have reversed the order of those lines.)
Are we just bags of hormones?
Can we blame the lack of, or the abundance of,
the chemistry in our bodies,
infecting the knee **** reactions of our power hungry egos?
Menopausal, testosteroned, endorphined, dopamined,
all influencing the limbic system.
Soon, very soon a storm is coming.
A storm complete with tattooed bar codes
describing our perspective hormonal levels.
In the year 2025,
separated by island walls.  
Are we just bags of hormones?

{Act Three-Light}
<>
You can't love me,
you don't love yourself.
If and until you completely love yourself,
you can not completely love another.
The level of love that you have for me,
can only be the level of love for yourself.
You can't love me
........not yet.

I have no rage within me
Just raging hormones
A testing water
To patience.