Stakes were high
Like the neighing of a horse
He wailed in his closet
The decision was made hastily
With no deliberation
And had turn around to bite
His butt
Trapped in a goose chase
Seeking asylum from the demons
Breaking from the pits below
What was done
Can’t simply be undone
He wasn’t ready
Except his sexual desires hearty
He was dragged into promising
Heaven on earth
Clearly, he didn’t mean a thing
He uttered and he knew so
He merely sought to dip his finger
And lick from the pot of dripping Honey
A pot of eternal sweet
After she beamed with the news
Of a product of their love
He curled, reprehending what was
Lain in the womb
Before it had its own voice
It was a mistake
To him
A mistake that needed to be
Set right
And it was gone briskly
As it came, if not faster.
Muzamir
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