MY WET EYED MASTER

The wet eyes

on verge of sourness

that silence , that moment, hour less

that snap, so tight a slap

she felt her heart cry

when I took away my hand from hers

in my silence and ours..

I let sensitivities fry

I'm sorry

I pray

I wont keep ur eyes dry

I'l keep em wet

with tears of laughter ..n

puppeteer me my master

for I'm u'r slave... so go ahead and enjoy