Written by Pino-X

pride renounce its course in the purpose we emerge,

fierce anger poured into the jars of competition with whose first.

in Ancient we have been hated, resented drain down the pipes of un- forgiveness.

we share our hearts to make happy to who happy have left,

we desired much but ended burnt like black coffee in the brewing stick.


we slowly foretel our presence with our features, surrendered to the bit of courage and lost in words. we struggle in Arts, for designs are our first choice to protect. Never misguided or blinded with the blinders of the horse race.

gradually things are left unreal, our desires our hate, so a prey to the carnivorous, left with scarce of the smile from the first sight.

Broken and stitched we were mended and ended in the same dark slippery road heading back home.

our friend our enemies, the breast we shared with the loved forgo the pleasure in distance embracing the balance to its addicted cause.

so wide it called like the bosom of a mistress, to steal and touch, with fire for thought, spilled like the milk from the toddler left to be unpicked.

who to pluck the rotten affecting the ripen, we hate the words but enjoy the command.

the Joy of females is the pain stuffed in every gift box pilled in an empty room waiting for the next available knock.

Sun bath, caged, maintained, abuse, confused, surprised, denied, relied, depressed, despised, detained, embraced, sustained, ignored, resented and humiliated.

the Joy of the Females rested in between their thighs and bosom, and this days their bottom.

Pain and Gain, Gift and Curse.




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