Living a life in constant battle against a disease seems to be so unfair. It takes the strength and will away, exhausts mind and body. Living a life where disease is the only company, definitely, seems to be even more unfair. In fact, loneliness is much worse than any disease. Overcoming the problems is twice as difficult, achieving the set goals brings no pleasure... Life makes no sense if one is on his own.
I am not much of a poet, but I wrote these with all my heart wishing everybody suffering from erectile dysfunction to always have someone to talk to, someone who will understand everything without words and explanations, someone to count on in the worst days of the life.
He longs for love
He’s full of passion
Sex and desire are his obsession
The man can’t satisfy his lust
And treats himself with deep disgust.
His soul’s alive
But body’s week
And loneliness is what he’ll seek
The thing he hates is the disease,
Which causes pain nothing can ease.
His lover’s gone
He’s in depression:
His own body is out of his possession.
For once he used to be a real man
Disease won’t let him be the one again.
As soon as man
Began to moan
As Aphrodite our of the foam
Returned the lover back to man
With magic blue pills in her hand.
The male body
Can be treated
The drug is here –disease defeated
The most important thing for sure
He’s got the one his soul to cure.
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