Christian Connor Schwantes
Occupational Hazards - Poem by Christian Connor Schwantes
Have you ever held a whore so close you adore her?
But everyone around you can only abhor her
You’re fooled by loves simplicity
You can’t even articulate its basic felicity
Instead complicating it, to completely castrate it
She has just been in a rut, which by your definition makes her a slut?
But I say why call the kettle black when you’re the one who’s always found on your back
I don’t see what she has done to you
Maybe you’d be the same if you couldn’t have gone to school
Drop-out, cop-out are the names that you gave to her
But what really have you started to favor?
Maybe your ego or two percent body fat
Are you really gonna say she can’t compete with that
I am not asleep
I can feel what I seek
It’s more than just skin and bones
It’s a harmony with different tones
No one can tell me how to feel
She knows because her past has been real
Papered and perfect are you ideal mates
But I want a girl with some down to earth traits
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