to play the game
Posted to Poetry
by amazingzenlunatic on 2002-10-01 15:24:00
the lover thinks in retrospect
he sees all the harm he can inflict
he knows his ways he must reject
but desire and logic do conflict
she is no prize to collect
she is not the one in his dreams, nor hand-picked
where doth the doll of his heart, shipwreked?
Or in an ancient land speaking foreign dialect?
not by her lustful needle has he been pricked
to this carnal need he is a new addict
upon his gentle heart he should reflect
instead he has stood up his heart; erect.
