These big men
In suits
With their whips
And chains
Make the slaves
Please them
For them
It's all about control
It's torture
Sweating, knees week
Fear of what's going
To happen to them
Will they make it
To next week
What about right now
They get a orgasm
Once a week
But it's never
Enough to sustain them
It's torture
Johnny's got a bruise
Rub some lotion
On it
And keep on
Keeping on
These power exchanges
The dom and sub dynamic
Is it really worth it
It's painful and
Not pleasurable at all
There's always one
who speaks the truth
Let it be known to all
Of us
It's torture
Creative and young
With big dreams
Died young
Because of
A chokehold
It's torture
YOU ARE READING
A Journey Through My Soul
PoetryThis is a collection of short poems I wrote. Please be aware that some contain sexual content, and as well as descriptions of depression that might trigger some people .
