to whoever you are,

I’m lonely, sometimes,

would you like to come over?

there’s no one there,

someone must care?

bag of blue balls,

throbbing twitches in the stalls,

can’t stand the cinema,

too many squalls.

is this a love poem?

sounds more like self doubt,

pity the old brain sprout,

he don’t know what it’s about.

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love poem