Her damn love life was all fits and starts!
She’d allowed men to touch bits and parts,
Touched that part of them too!
Well, what more could she do?
Men cared more about girls’ tits than hearts!
Tag: romance
Kiss a frog, anyone?
Fast becoming a sexual hermit,
Plain luckless and fuckless, a Kermit,
He could have used whores
But he didn’t because …
It lacked… romance, he guessed you could term it.
The cut of his jib
A trained eye, she could tell at a glance,
From his stance, and the cut of his pants,
All about a man’s prick…
Was it long? Was it thick?
If he felt like a bit of romance!
Antisocial media
Well of course, she was sort of offended,
Not only because it had ended,
Her Facebook romance…
Once he’d got in her pants…
It was more being fucked… then un-friended.
The romantic type
They went out in the bus, not a cab.
Later on, at his flat, (rather drab),
He put on the hard word,
(Always did, so she’d heard).
Fair enough, since he’d picked up the tab.
No illusions
Fucking’s fucking, she thought, crude and graceless,
That romance crap totally baseless.
When in the right mood
She quite liked being screwed,
Though the men that she rooted were faceless.
Courtship
Courtly manners, the romantic arts,
Men invented to win women’s hearts,
And their minds, and their hands,
Although each understands
The main goal is their warm moister parts.
Booze and romance
She was dressed in a way to provoke,
To turn on any red-blooded bloke,
Who perceived a fair chance,
After booze and romance,
She might just let him give her a poke.