My selfish black tank top.
My know it all blue jeans.
A not so virginal courtesan.
Who's fee is always free.
But inside you'll find no greater woe,
Than the coals I've left behind.
Yet the ones I haven't martyred yet,
Are the lucky few who hide.
Some say that I am a witch,
Enchanting to the rainbow man.
Dropping Ecstasy on their tongue.
"lets have a good time my friend."
They dance around, they find their muse,
And for that moment its sublime.
Sooner than later they tie their noose,
The undertaker begins to write.
Reporters find my victims drowning,
In bars along the east.
Telling tales about my carnival,
A legacy incomplete.
They say is was "wonderfully terrible."
To fall under my pens gallows.
For my soft rope was always gentle,
While their dull knife remained shallow.
Oh what a colorful profession,
Damning the hearts of damned men.
For I never allow myself to love,
But say it much more often.
Than the fools who really can.
With Lady Lazarus at hand,
I say, "Herr Lucifer beware,
for I too eat men like air."
My know it all blue jeans.
A not so virginal courtesan.
Who's fee is always free.
But inside you'll find no greater woe,
Than the coals I've left behind.
Yet the ones I haven't martyred yet,
Are the lucky few who hide.
Some say that I am a witch,
Enchanting to the rainbow man.
Dropping Ecstasy on their tongue.
"lets have a good time my friend."
They dance around, they find their muse,
And for that moment its sublime.
Sooner than later they tie their noose,
The undertaker begins to write.
Reporters find my victims drowning,
In bars along the east.
Telling tales about my carnival,
A legacy incomplete.
They say is was "wonderfully terrible."
To fall under my pens gallows.
For my soft rope was always gentle,
While their dull knife remained shallow.
Oh what a colorful profession,
Damning the hearts of damned men.
For I never allow myself to love,
But say it much more often.
Than the fools who really can.
With Lady Lazarus at hand,
I say, "Herr Lucifer beware,
for I too eat men like air."
Author notes
i wrote this about how certain people i meet want my love and accuse me of the above things i think its rather funny i dedicate this to the unremarkable men that have been apart of my life that would rather scorn me than accept the fact that they are like everyone else. i have my match and thats it.
Written April 5th, 2006
A contest entry
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1000 points, ended April 24, 2008, 60 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Kindred Spirit by jocelynclaire.
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What did you think
Comments
-
This was a very interesting write. I really like it. It's something different, these lines were my favourite;
"My selfish black tank top.
My know it all blue jeans.
A not so virginal courtesan.
Who's fee is always free."
In those lines, I can relate to in some way, we tend to not realize that when we go out and dress the way we do, in tight jeans and a tank top, men will get the wrong idea. Some may assume we are an "easy catch" or simply just a piece of meat.. so why not just ride them off right? lol just kidding.
Anyways this was really good. Thanks for sharing & best of luck

