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D is for Double-Dare

The devil in me made me do it
D is for Double-Dare

There are always two parts to a double dare.

The first, the hardest, involves being aware.

Before one can consider taking dare pledges,

One must conceive of life with sharp edges.

Crossing a cutting edge, trying something new

In ones mind presents an unimaginable you.

This is nothing less than an act of creation,

It is spirit more than thought’s imagination.

Does a man or a woman intend to recreate

When they start to play these games with fate?

Is it thrill-seeking or merely escape from ennui

That drives one to dare to let go and be free?

Whatever the motive, and there must be many,

You’re in for a pounding, when in for a penny.

The commitment lies o’er your mind like a quilt

Giving you warmth, your soul’s sewn up in guilt.

Your mind is made up at this first stage,

But still you have yet to turn a life-page.

That full feeling of fun, fear and dread

Remains a mind-matter all in your head.

Seductive sex sirens of sensuous sin

Whisper lust songs heard only within.

Their lyrics lure, it is you they are calling

To act now and forego your dare stalling.

Your daring, bold image is forever renewed,

Stripped of pretence with only truth viewed.

Forward you step as there’s no going back.

Dare done indeed will become what you lack.

Due Time and thought now meet at the edge.

Your Will finds ways to fulfill your dare pledge.

Dare deeds demand embarrassing travails,

A shameful blush blossoming in the details.

So one at a time, you take off all your clothes.

To all about you, your nakedness you expose.

You’re not at home or in a private toilet stall,

But in the centre of a crowded shopping mall.

Don’t duck blame. No devil made you do it.

You own it now, though you may well rue it.

You’ve dared and you’re bare for all to see.

Welcome to the joy of playing Double-D.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © This is copyrighted and belongs to BIC. It may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the written or e-mailed permission of the author. Who steals my purse, steals base lead. Who steals my lines, robs me of my soul.

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