Good Cents Poem by Barry Van Allen

Most women that I have known,
are still made of what little girls are made of;
sugar and spice and everything nice,
that is... MOST of them,
- - - NOT all!

She slithered up to Adam,
and he fell like a stone,
he began to mix his metaphors,
his batted puck, while on first base,
was always, in the end - zone though,
... at least that's what he said,
... and I continued to believe.

Adam and I went out one time,
and I thought he would survive,
- - - right up to the point where he
began to preach...
about new found love and then came up,
with his Gospel - - - meta-fives.

There was no mixing any more for him,
... it was to him as law,
there was no mirror that he could see,
... all I saw was Adam lost.

Perhaps it was her smooth, cool skin,
or the way she wrapped her body all around,
but, she grabbed him by his haze,
and Adam made the kind of promises,
no mortal man should make.

I don't want to say their destiny was failure,
but, when a car is on the railroad tracks,
' Oh! , by the way ' - - -
just doesn't seem to be enough.

Since she slid away from Adam,
the man has never been the same,
and I get very little satisfaction,
in knowing who's to blame.

The other night I ran across her,
somehow, so easily predicted,
I had to walk away...
because it's not my place to tell him,
that he's about to be constricted...
I could see it in his eyes...
she has another man addicted,
and I know he does not realize,
that she is feeding on him,
... just like adam,
he 'll be a victim of her lies.

Sugar, spice and all that's nice,
is what we've all been taught,
... just make sure the final product,
is exactly what you bought!