My Ex-Staffs. Poem by Subrata Ray

My Ex-Staffs.

All my husbands,
Nightly minions,
Day's guys,
Haunt my leisure,
And my room is scattered,
With shadowy shows,
The mimic of unsaturated pleasures.

None I blame, none I claim,
For, they were ebb and tide,
In the run of my temporal see,
In my blooming flowers, they were bees.

Love, -never I had, but a tigress' appetite,
The hunger of chemistry did alone fight.
Time and Nature contrive to spoil,
I could not see my soul for their vain broil!

You may live in street, home or brothel,
In your psychic, I do feel, you have my tale!