John F. McCullagh
It started out quite harmlessly,
some naughty mixed with nice.
Then it turned into obsession,
an addiction and a vice.
He some became incapable
of talking to a girl
who wasn't made of pixels
screwing in his made up world.
Now virtual vixens fill his nights
and dominate his days.
It all self gratifying
in a sad pathetic way
He's like Don Juan de Marco
losing his humanity
The only connection that he has left
is with Direct T.V.
John F. McCullagh's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Virtual vixens by John F. McCullagh )
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