Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Everything is Ace

Not for me, the table for two,
Drowning in each others eyes
No lingering French kisses
Or intimate carresses
Or sweating and panting
In fevered embraces

I've never known lust
I'm a stranger to passion
And jealousy
And the pain of love spurned
My nights are free of fantasy
My heart has never burned

Some say I'm a freak
Or that I'm sick
Or even mentally ill
They show me their pity
"Maybe," they say, "there's a pill"
Others say "You've not met the right one."
No, and I never will

I used to date, to dine and chat
I was very fond of that
But, after some weeks my partners tire
For they don't see in me
That sexual fire
They wanted to be more than friends
So that is where our friendship ends

I don't want your pity,
I'm free, you see
For the time and the money
You spend on amore
I have fun with my friends
They all know the score-ay

Just one final word
To that fine poet Les
Is poetry better than sex?
Yes, for some, it is.

1 comment:

  1. Archensword, I have got some advice from some friends. I will not post any more of your inflammatory comments. If I think you are being reasonable, then I will approve them. If you persist, I will report you.