Perhaps a stroke hit my eye,
a twinkle or even a stone.
A feeling is there as the twinge move along,
certainly a question; a matter of appearance,
you can push all you might,
but will there ever be, another flash like this?
Maybe a thought dazed through my mind,
a desire or even a shout.
When a pain awake my sleeping eyes,
indeed as a thrill, a substance of lust;
you never thought you'd get addicted
to the explosive, hidden detail.
Poetry by Ole Petter
Read 460 times
Written on 2005-11-02 at 00:41
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