Time For Softness
I like women's breasts,
Just the thought takes my breath.
To see them bouncing and free
Looks beautiful to me.
Why did they have to cover them up.
It's an accusation and an affront.
Because I like women's tops
I'm made to feel corrupt.
I'd like for a moment to be
Back in the eighteenth century
Sailing back ito Tahiti,
To see their raw beauty
Running topless and free,
Or revisiting the sixties
With its uninhibited nudity.
I felt like I was their brother,
Whom they didn't need to cover
Their feminity from.
It's needless to fuss and worry
About toplessness encouraging promiscuity.
It's frustration and tension that make us ravenous.
While violence is softly quelled by toplessness.
Wouldn't it be nice for the children to see
The feminine gender, part of humanity,
With men and women living free
Without the incessant quarrling?
Exposure of women's breasts may be a potion
That lowers the level of malaggression.
There is nothing as soothing as the rhythm Of a woman's jiggling bosom.
Our world is so hard, sleek, and straight
Projecting missiles, high rises, and the barrel of a tank.
Maybe it's time for the softness of our mother
To be allowed to be uncovered.
Originally Posted On Site: 2007-05-08 20:10:45
Last Login: 07.13.10
Visits as of 12-12-07: 159
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