• KitWriter shared a letter in the Group logo of Mental HealthMental Health group 1 month ago

    The Professor

    The Professor

    Come in, come in, don’t hesitate,
    the professor said, his chair a-spin,
    rising up to greet her with his grin askew,
    we’ve work to do, things to teach,
    things to learn,

    He thinks “while I burn in ardor
    for your young and rosy cunt,
    to suck you dry,
    drain me deep.”

    He takes the leap across the room,
    grabs her hard,
    holds her there,
    begins to kiss her hair, her skin,
    the clothes she’s in he wants to shred,
    expose her breasts,
    hold them in his gaze, his hands.

    Firm and loud she calls out no,
    no one can hear his ill deed done,
    they are all gone
    alone with him, she struggles hard,
    his arms are strong and lock her in.

    Lonesome is his lot he says,
    I’ll care for you,
    we’ll go for drives,

    His thought “you’ll stroke my cock
    I’ll feel alive again just for a while,
    cancer cuts my poor life short,
    now chemo’s done,
    you’ll be my radiant sun and moon,
    prolong my time,
    chase Death’s stench and gloom away,
    oh, lusty wench.

    Look at the time,
    where has it gone,
    she says to slow his fingers down,
    the others are all joining me,
    our time for tea, we meet each day,
    at the corner shop just down the way.

    He must stop his vile assault,
    someone will miss her when they gather,
    he’s in a lather, he’ll try again,
    another day,
    she tucks in her blouse,
    come play house again he coos,
    you’ll be my sun, my moon,
    come to me soon, don’t wait
    too long, my pretty girl,
    for Death stalks me,
    I need…

    she’s gone.

    © Kit Minden

    Image by Q.K., Pixabay

    Kit Minden
    Write me back 

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