He wishes he hadn’t gone
To see what the computer had on…
His tormentor–
Chief presenter–
Told him, just leave the leeches on!
–
Images on a screen,
Exposure to the obscene…
Big regret
That he let,
Those pictures into daydreams!
–
Exposing more to the eye,
Continues the fading high…
Holding his ground
At least is sound,
But the germ in his brain won’t die.
–
More and more guys struggle,
Seeing will power puddles…
Melt to the core
Without God to shore
Up the man in his muddle.
–
–J.E.C.