the lost soul

My medulla oblangata is at a seizer,
Taking me into hostage,
As I remain frags busted,
My lips glued in,
All I can do is mumble words,
That you can’t grasp,

Oh My Gosh!
Your eyes they glow the white pearl,
Your lips, oh my your lips,
A little swollen they are,
Small and sexy,
How juicy they look,
I would be stumbled if I get to have a taste of them,

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