Bitter Thirst

For ages life has evolved , improved and defined its self to get better and improvise in every phase...  in certain cases sexuality has always been a topic to be ended even before it starts.... why hide when history reminds of it.. when nature binds us with it... it is simply a part of us.... here is one such topic which has not been spoken much .. the lives of these men who have volunteered, been there due to circumstances, or simply  been in a tradition or a family business as such...this poem is a struggle of few individuals who speak their wroth and anger towards being the protagonists of sex and pleasure ... it's just that... people are choosing these ways to release stress more often than ever....not sparing the youth and innocent kids of these families to be victimized..... that's what's growing bitter.... the pain these people take in protecting their younger generation is whats been expressed from a third person's point of view....

'Travelling down this lane, 
I saw these nude men aflame.
Buying the business of skin and shame,
selling were people , their respect n pain... 


The red lights on with sparkle beyond,
 the stories and lanes of a rich man's game
to fledge their treat on an evil retreat...
and blend these men as a piece to blame.


With bitterness intact, were men with no heart,
who mend their life for a simple gain.
A gain to live, feed other bellies for same
and pin themselves as a proud family's main....


This family aghast, is a collection of mass,
with results of different mean men's game....
which this man's nice, gave it a life, 
a reason to live and deviate his mind...


But  the least we know, the pain they go
to light their child and keep them away from a lie,
let them to play a good man's show...
to answer their might to an eternal high.


This shame that grows, in those who throw
their little owned body and  respect divine.
to continue their show until, their body gets low,
unless no fledged kick and sex derived.


This growth in girth of population on earth
that led to the birth of this inhuman truth.
For its worth your flesh and self respect great,
to unclothe yourself and shelter the betrayed....


This vicious lap goes on, until God's might but wants...
to stop this pain that man give man in vain,
and cease this act , of a worthless fact
of bitterness of one , to quench this thirsty fun...."


Kirthi