Sometimes when we wait we do so in vain

with the weaken strings

of an empty life,

and sometimes like a knife

you cut off my wings

without knowing why

silence turns to pain

and with no goodbye

I just wait again.


I could call your name

I could walk away

I could point and blame

I could close my eyes

and believe the lies

or just simply stay

I could wait in vain.


H.O. 2/23/15






“To play with my imagination”


You told me once about your hips

so round and firm to hold a must

and grind against with cadence thrust

while tasting them with burning lips

I want in them to imprint my lust.


You told me once about your breasts

so full of wants to pleasure me

and to softly hold would set me free

to gently give to your requests

your breast alone to touch I’ll plea.


You told me once about your thighs

so plum and soft like none I seen

when getting lost hard in between

while holding hips I’ll take the prize

and kiss your breasts my loving queen.


H.O. 2/3/15






Seems I place my hopes in a broken jar

every time I find you I let myself go

where the current takes me,

if hopes disperse far

as your love forgo

when I let you be.


Seems I paint love on an empty wall

where I wait for you

every time you find me,

if love was to call

I won’t have a clue

when I let you be.


H.O. 2/3/15