They leer

the lechers

sweat gleams on their foreheads as they stare

saliva drools down their cheeks

pupils dilated from the ogling

faces flushed from uncanny thoughts

They leer

the lechers

fingers tap the arms of the chair

to an unknown melody

a silent treaty to the gods

do I tap it, do I not

They leer

the lechers

crazed from their wishful thoughts

maxed out from contention of wills

an inner warfare waged

the haves and the have nots

They leer

the lechers

dreams unfulfilled and some broken

hopes shattered and unrealised

futures set in stone, engraved

myths of lustful nature and poured milk

They leer

the lechers

sucking dry the young veins

destroying visions of greatness

eyes seeing yet unseeing

parasitic dreams that shackle souls.


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