Im reminded of the old adage…if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Goes right back to your other poem…gotta read the fine print. Believe the lies, trust the cardboard cut out caricature, you get what you deserve. Hitting nails on the head with a jack-hammer, as usual, my friend

hello dearest Damian karma always has her way well said I am depressed it feels heavy this poem great write 💕

“Been swindled under some false pretense”, def felt that line.
Nice penned my friend.

“grass is dead on the other side”. The older I get the more I feel that. Great ink.

Damian, I read and reread your poem. Took me into the heart of chasing rainbows and the stark reality that often is at the other side. Superbly crafted poem.

John

That hits with a quiet force—like courage stitched from trembling threads. The contrast between silence and the mask of bravery unveils a moment of deep vulnerability, almost like a portrait of someone holding themselves together just enough to get by. It carries the weight of all the things left unsaid when fear takes the reins.

Yes and yes, we do ache to be touched, we deserve to still be desired. Wholeheartedly agree, my gentle man.❤️

Wrinkles don’t kill the burn…that need still drives. Nicely done in so few words

And some that only think they can…. What a punch at the end. Nice weekend starter.

Touching and being touched is natures way of saying….’ I understand ‘.
Doesn’t always require sex but good sex always requires it.
Thanks Raven for your comment 💋

Oooh, this one has a cozy, tingly feel to it. Can almost hear the soft murmur of voices & clinking of ice in the background. This one sings of intimacy, my friend

That atmosphere is peaceful with a bit of loneliness to it. Nice spill.

This feels of a good moment. Though too much of a good thing can lead to trouble. Damn those demons. Great ink.

Happy (early) birthday toast incoming! July 18 deserves a proper celebration—with Bourbon’s smoky charm and Vodka’s crisp fire clinking together in style. Here’s to bold beginnings, blurry stories, and the kind of laughter that lingers longer than the hangover.

Ahhh, Damian! 🥃

Nothin’s like sippin’ choice bourbon with a friend (on the rocks w/a splash-a bitters), sharing a tale or two with laughter in the air.

A feel good write that lifted an olde bard’s spirits ‘n brought a fond smile for moments past.
A lovely week ahead to ya, Syr Poet! ⁓ Rascal🖌

I think of immortality from another side of what you’re saying. If you’re immortal but only you…imagine constantly being around to witness the fall of everyone you know & care about? No thank you. I’m with you on this one