So once there was a kindly boy
Concerned with art and life.
His wit and pen were sharper
Than his mother's butcher knife.
                
His kindness wasn't well received
By those he called his peer
Who roughed him up and called him names,
That caused him pain severe.
                
But he did not respond in kind.
He let the insults slide.
That's not to say he would forget.
Payback would be supplied.
                
Our boy was quite ingenious.
He planned reprisal well.
He kept his focus to himself;
A silent tolling knell
                
These guys had pretty girlfriends
But their ardour was amiss.
They didn't know that knowledge could
Contribute to their bliss.
                
By studying the art of love
(And all of the mechanics)
He paired this with some scarlet ink,
Producing co-dynamics.
                
He worked his project long and hard
(The irony forgiven)
Until he had a missive that
Resembled  passion's heaven.
                
He wrote of carnal fervency
And zealous jungle love.
He wrote of things that people don't
Admit they're thinking of.
                
The guys weren't really much for words;
His poetry dismissing.
The women were and when they read,
They knew what they were missing.
                
It wasn't long before the girls
Were seeking greener grass.
The guys were left exposed as if
A pheasant under glass.
                
He sees them now quite often at
The Chick-fil-A drive through.
It causes him to think about
The Karma we accrue.
                *
Life has it's way of straightening
Imbalance it would seem
And he was getting luckier
Than they could ever dream.
                                      rc