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A Monster
When he sees your mild and virginal face
He's filled with thoughts that are such a disgrace
That he really must be some kind of freak
Though he kids himself he's not unique,
You're pure and holy and he wants to defile
Your shy little glance and innocent smile.
He must be a monster deep inside
With lusts and cravings which he's denied,
He certainly not like other men
But thinks of perversions beyond their ken
Till shame compels him to run and hide
Before he's virtually crucified.
poem
by
John Thorkild Ellison
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