I hate these type of people

_________________________________________________

In a metaphorical poetic minefield

searching for similes to yield

a young troubled troubadour

trying helplessly to search for

the perfect ways to impress

those he wants to undress

he’ll write handsome haiku’s

he’s too shy to ask to fuck you

the restricted reserved type

who writes utter tripe

convinced the ladies love clichés

‘it’s from the heart’ he says

whilst forwarding his flowery antics

to the girls he considers his frantics’

this caught up to him one day

because he simply didn’t get his way

a new lass joined the college

his attention she didn’t acknowledge

so he started leaving his poems

in a way to get to know him

when she finally paid attention

he thought he’d be a sensation

to this mystery girl

and maybe he’d be able to take a whirl

he got a reply to his stanza’s

on it she wrote that it was  like a cancer

to the myth of the fragile fella’s

and that it’s easier just to tell her

to her face the dreams he had

of loving her so hard it was mad

he was astounded by this

that somehow he was without a kiss

from this fair maiden

and that it wasn’t his bed laden

with her lustful advances

instead now it was awkward glances

Clever girls never fall

For those tricks at all

Take this from a naïve boy

Still writing love poems that are coy

In their approaches to a shag

They’ll just leave you with a sticky rag

Tell them to their face

And make sure there isn’t a trace

Left of your shitty love poems

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