Owen Freid
In the sun's warm embrace, Owen stands,
A sculpture of sinew, a masterpiece of hands.
His eyes, like molten gold, pierce the air,
A gaze that ignites flames, a daring affair.
**Handsome**—a canvas painted by the gods,
Chiseled jawline, a path where desire trods.
His laughter, a melody, echoes through the pines,
A symphony of charm, where longing intertwines.
**Muscular**—each sinew a testament of might,
A fortress of resilience, unyielding in the fight.
His shoulders bear burdens, yet never bend,
A colossus of strength, a protector to the end.
**Strong**—not just in muscle, but in spirit too,
A tempest of resolve, a force that breaks through.
He carries dreams like Atlas, unwavering and bold,
A titan of purpose, a saga waiting to be told.
And **sexy**—oh, how the stars envy his allure,
A gravitational pull, irresistible and pure.
His touch, electric, sets galaxies ablaze,
A cosmic collision of passion's fiery maze.
So raise a toast to Owen, this earthly divine,
A blend of fire and earth, a rare moonshine.
In his veins, the universe dances, wild and free,
Owen Freid—the embodiment of masculinity.
*—A poetic ode to Owen Freid*