Boners in History ClassA Poem by AAmellHaven't we all...I need it to go, I want it to stop I hang my head low, And beg it to drop This flesh citadel, A big branchless tree One tall pink hotel, Trying to poke free Please don’t call on me, Do not call my name I will try to flee, To avoid the shame I cannot fight it, My body resists I change how I sit, Yet still it persists It’s not hypnotic, For that I am sure So tell me boner, What's so erotic About the cold war? © 2017 AAmellAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on September 28, 2011 Last Updated on August 15, 2017 |

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