Walls drenched in the sweat of yesteryear.
I hate many.
I love none
Birds tweet of the consuming doldrums of today.
To be a man.
Is a burden.
To have a soul.
Is encumbering.
I own a past long undisclosed.
Now my past speaks to me with flirtatious intrigue.
Hypocrisy is a hard embrace.
When you stare at the edge of loneliness.
I like her.
Ending it with kisses.
Just Starting to resume.
I do yearn for the embrace held harshly from me.
Ben Brizell 