Thy velvety pink lining has revolted against thy most honorable wishes.
'tis now an angry, burning red!
Much like the doomy pits of hell!
And hell is how one should describe thee.
But why? Why doth thy choose such a path?
could one have followed an alternate?
will thy destiny have changed?
Explosions as mighty as all the worlds volcanoes
oozing pain, thy knees tremble like an earthquake
One can no longer enjoy the purity of ones skin
One can no longer live carefree
If kept a secret, thy shall be no different than a murderer!
A soothing touch.
Although, the rain hath left no moisture.
The grounds crack and ache for a new rain to fall.
Thou shalt not ponder such occurrences...for will it come?
One has high hopes.
As high as the heavens.
My take on ****** Transmitted Diseases during the Shakespeare Era (1600's)
— The End —