Walking the sidewalk
His eyes caught good sight
Of the throes of stalk
Hustlers of the night

He wanted a crutch
Someone to lean on
A women's soft touch
For his love has gone

As the satin dears
Rose at every thorn
His eyes filled with cheers
As soon his star's borne

He picked out a peach
For his picnic fares
A stroll at the beach
Without any stairs

Lust the price be paid
Two Franklin's calling
Such wishes he laid
For a brief balling

It was quite a show
Her a Barbie doll
Dressed down for his dough
Taking care of his roll

When it was all done
His whistle's alive
His meat had some bone
Men's crutches she'll strive

Logan Robertson

10/19/2019