Even GENTLE caress

Is a sad day when as man

You realise no woman can

Any more

Make you the man

You wanted to be.

And whilst on so many occasions

You had occasion to blame other,

In truth the only mother of your

Sadly bad – and

Badly unhappy –

Forever now,

So forever, how,

Is the sadness inside

You hide from so many.

And whilst solution could be there

If other man you did care for,

Is no solution at all

For no resolve

Nor easy way out

Now lies its truths before you.

After thirty years of waiting,

My mind no longer hating,

My body no longer able

To ride a woman’s wonderful,

Ever damn wonderful,

My life has passed me by:

I am a dry man, so horrible,

Who once would – so happy –

Love and cherish all womankind,

So kindly,

So blindly,

So well.

A man in only name

Who – suddenly – himself finds

Buried beneath

The wreath of rejections, millions.

And unable to ever

Reshape his being,

Too late to save – distraught – his sex,

He reckons for sure – crying out

In mad pain! –

No longer, never again,

Will even gentle caress

His be.


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