Despite all of her Mum’s and Dad’s yelling,
The strong funk of sex they were smelling,
The threats, talk of sin,
She just said with a grin,
“Do whatever you want. I’m not telling!”
Tag: sin
Original sin
Back in Eden, then, in the beginning,
Eve started this thing they call sinning…
Of course, it was fun,
And so, having begun,
It would seem that the devil’s still winning!
The flesh is weak
He began, in the end, to suspect
That despite all that talk of respect,
And the wages of sin…
When he did stick it in,
She, in fact, didn’t too much object.
Apostate
Having long given up God and Jesus,
She pretty much does as she pleases;
Goes out, gets a skinful,
Enjoys being sinful,
Laughs off threats of social diseases.
A lost cause
It’s not fucking, she told herself mentally.
What though, if, just accidentally,
(Was it a sin?)
His cock somehow slipped in?
(As it would, in fact, do, incrementally!)
Heaven and earth
Poor young lass, sorely used by the preacher,
In ways lewd and sinful, vile creature,
God’s servant indeed!
Saggy-bellied, weak-kneed,
And so unprepossessing of feature!
Small sins
Not a slut, but a frequent transgressor,
She said to her father-confessor.
Was sex still a sin,
If not all the way in,
Or, perhaps, she hoped, somehow, a lesser?
Eternity
The poor girl, she was tortured infernally,
Doomed, she expected, eternally,
Once she gave in,
Though she’d known it was sin,
But goddamn! It felt so good, internally!
The rough with the smooth
Her upbringing was godly and stuffy;
She’d come home, though, drunk, eyelids puffy,
A just-rooted grin,
Having opted to sin,
And, by choice, with boys rowdy and scruffy!
The impotence of prayer
Women pray to their various gods,
Pious whispers and gestures and nods.
If their gods only knew
The lewd things they then do,
They’d be damned, but then, what are the odds?