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I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...

If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...

It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!

It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!

It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!

It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs

to walk away.

But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.

Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.

Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.

It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.

So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
             more like MEN!!!

Perhaps it was my own fault;
Letting her ever get that close.
Inviting her underneath my skin
Where she'd gnaw at my bones.
The dichotomy, while blatant,
Fell to eyes under strain.
Her beauty was blinding.
My world suddenly dimmed.
Her voice, ever charming,
All other sound fell to mute.
My old heart, her new hobby;
Another puppet, abused.
Douse your half of the fire,
Yet mine still rages on.
Though I’m new to the subject,
I'll call what we had ‘love’.
But if ever again I feel heartbreak:

Dear God,
**** me young

— The End —