Read Time:5 Minute, 4 Second
BOYS TOO WERE RAPED
This city knows how to weigh down one's pride it swallows our lives before we learn how to smile so, pain is the first and last thing a boy wears. Say, smiles aren't suitable for masculine visages Perhaps this fallacy is just a silent murderer. In tonight's verse, my pen dedicates it's tears to a thousand boys who saw their first orgasm almost at the point of death as they wailed at the top of their voices, trying to flee from the randiness of an opposite gender. The first time my eyes saw a girl's nakedness was at sixteen, when my body became an altar for a forceful ritual of iniquity by a girl; one who was twice the size of my entire body. My story leaves many drops of water in my eyes yet I dare not to share it with anyone cause a story like this is expected never from me, I am only seen as a culprit but not a victim so I fold my hurtful tales into the depths of my soul and let them stay forever, but out of the audience cause such a memoir is a humiliation to my kind.