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 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .              "Logical Change"     
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  . . .  .   .   . . .  . . .  . . .                by Khetel


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 People... faces... changing constantly.
 Teachers.  Evilness.  Exposing weaknesses.
 Lad, insane.  perhaps not.
 Poetry, all the time.  Never appreciated.
 If only understanding would be approving.
 Logic is all that applies.
 I think therefore I am is untruing.
 Ohh yes.  Unfortunetely.  Music is all
 and more surpassing logic.
 How can one have the riches of life
 without paying any of the dues.
 Weakness are exploited.  Left.  and right.
 Lines of people.  Rows.  All completely
 now wasted in life,
 some life is wasting them.
 Fighting changes and society, all in One.
 Trying completely to rid their lives of control,
  all and every aspect of it.
 Memories, past and present, all conflicting
 with the simplicity of technology.
 Knowing that which is to come of us and them,
 fearing the worst which is inevitible.  Scaredom.
 All upon my shoulders, healing that which is the one,
 knowing now of which to take care of at the time.
 Who knows.  what could be done at all to take care of
 Those which in a quick short amount of time
 could perhaps a little something as of a dime
 could remove anything like a ton
 of issues.. Issues... ISSUES.
 Only something as wet as a virgin's pussy
 the night before she knows her virginity and
 all that which surrounds it is to be lost.
 Stripping before me, breasts flying, 1
 asking to be caressed.
 Nipples so hard to the touch, 
 if only a chance were to be had.
 But no, pleasuring not be had,
 pussy lips to caress.  Wet to the touch.
 Running fingers around, causing to wet, like
 the first virginal advances from several fingers.
 Perhaps, through them, old loves will be lost.
 Virginal bonds be met.  Wine be drank.  All be over.
 Crossdressing hippies will be at fault while others
 just laugh over that which is lost.  Composing
 while there is nothing in there.  Registry
 will take over all that which is mobile.
 All is lost.
 Being torn apart from the inside out.  The worst
 torture even to be experienced...
 The young finally appreciating that which is to be aged like moi.
 If only all the time this were to be had.  This which is not
 known to the likes of moi, be it the case shall definitely
 not to known the unknowns of red.  And that associated with the such.
 That, is where this story shall begin.  With unknowns around
 every corner, the enemy from within shall end us all with a touch.
 
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  .           anada 103                     by Khetel  (c)2000 anada e'zine .
      
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