It’s February once agained
and Google reminds me
that I should say to you, my friend,
“I wish you Happy VD.”
That little turd-brained Cupid
early on, took aim at our hearts.
making us both very stupid.
Seems he only hit our private parts.
I cherish those nights spent in pretzel shapes
in the backseat of your father’s car
while our future was making a condom escape.
Who knew it would take us so far?
Those sweaty times still hold appeal
(the few where you didn’t fake it)
and bring memories of barnyard squeals
whenever we would make it.
The kids have left the home (at last)
and though our romance may be frayed,
I still cling to fantasies, now past. Sigh If only you’d been spayed.
We’ve hung in there and haven’t quit
though we seem like prisoners sharing a cell
so, to that diaper wearing little shit:
you can go straight to hell!
An entry for the Cupid Slam (February) round of "The Bard's Hall Contest"
Prompt: February is Slam Cupid, Bad Poetry Month!
Form: Quatrains
Line Limit: None
Line Count: 24
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.10 seconds at 9:17pm on Dec 17, 2024 via server WEBX2.