Blow Jobs With Daisy

WhyMeMy dreams stay blowing but from a distance.
In some instances, I am simply depressed by the recession.
It is no longer news that I am jobless, so scratch it.
The heat in Lagos is unbecoming and that’s another reason to scratch that.
Once thought of being a recharge card seller but the pride of being a graduate won’t just let me scratch that.

My girlfriend got me my first job which I gladly took to every morning in bed.
In the wee hours of each day just after she pees, I go on my knees but not for morning devotion.
‘Take me home, Take me home’ is all I hear whenever I dry the surface with my saliva.
Call it the breakfast before dawn and you won’t be wrong. Well, that’s my palaver.
My tongue hurts from so much labour but that’s how I put food on the table.
Label me ‘hopeless’ but remember that the monthly alerts I got from her gave me hope.

I bring nothing to the relationship but the daily ritual of hitting and eating her up.
Sometimes I feel like a slave but I smile when I remember we are all in chains.
Those with big suits and ties still battle with office politics and still slave for the bosses.
This might just be my calling and I can’t begin to complain, I may just get thrown out.
Daisy is so sexy and rich that she can afford any man but she chose me.
Just a daily dose of her pumpum won’t choke me.

I am gonna fall ill by offering too much sexual healing.
Well, what’s the point of living? My government wants us dead apparently.
This can’t be life actually. I no longer feel like a man.
The country is really hard but I could have done more. Should I walk away?
Why am I living a life of excuses and blow jobs when I can really have more?

4 Comments

    • What a crazy “write-down”! What a crazier OP.
      # No value added!

  1. What a crazy “write-down”! What a crazier OP.
    # No value added!

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