Tough Guy Now

Darling, am I? Well, that's nice. I cultivate a darker
Mien, and mean to shed my doughy image. Women
Of the sort I seek, the ones with tattoos, wrapped
In leather, lean and lovely, scowling at the metal
Bands from aisle three, seem soft for men with
Tortured souls, so I am wounded. Can't you
See? And you, in white, the country maiden,
Though you're comely, have me wrong. I can't
Be found here in your garden, cannot be caught
Being pleasant with you as I pet your dog.
No tortured soul would do such things, nor
Would he let his heart be taken by someone
Who serves him tea, and smiles at him, and
Says he's darling, though such things are nice.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 20 times
Written on 2013-06-01 at 02:16

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