randomized

He's a hypocrite, yes that man lie and pretend, that he can but to self sir, not to clan Lives he in dreams, flies he on boats contradictions always, fill on his notes

The following is not a poem or a story in its strictest sense. It does not need to rhyme, nor does it need to describe the occurrence in detail. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I cried, I pleaded, tried to free back my hand he wrung and jerked it, ignoring my stand He kept leering like a wolf at me, then pounded at my flesh, with a sick rapture I wriggled, protested and I pleaded again to let go of me, for once, just for once

I don't have anything to write, still I sat down to do it just because I felt like writing.  I know this is not something I normally do, but this time, I'll just let the careful editing take some rest. The following incidents are taken out of the short 'life-story' I once wrote for somebody. Incidentally, it never served its purpose. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -