No lips, no thighs, no tits will tempt my fate,
When syphilis' contagious threat I see.
Henceforth, I'll gaze at stars and contemplate
religious love - so sacred, pure and free.
Within its light, I hope to find my plan,
Though its sharp wit I hardly can abide:
Since childhood we all love the same young man,
Ignoring gender's natural divide.
For Christ alone my heart shall truly race,
His love for all, a light that shines so bright.
No earthly love can ever match His grace,
His sterile touch, His guiding, healing light.
As if consumed by a supernova’s charmer,
We’re destined to embrace him clear and loud.
And live with him.
Thank God - it’s not Keith Starmer.
He’s in — I’m out.
No lips, no thighs, no tits will tempt my fate
© Copyright: Георгий Польский, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №225042300237
Свидетельство о публикации №225042300237
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