Author Frederick Adam Wright I DO not care for kisses, Save when we battle wage; For me the greatest bliss is To see you burn with rage. I strike, then fondle: so, my dear, I neither have your love nor fear. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments