A Reflection On Males Poem by Susan Christiansen

What is it about the p****
That makes it the first and best loved toy?
To be pulled and stretched beyond imagination
And pain (you’d think) would allow.
As soon as the hands can grasp
And the diaper comes off, it is found……
The common focus, short journey, goal achieved.

As toddlers, it is best displayed to open air,
And available for a moments whim.
Bathtubs and water are magical……
Look! It does something new!
It goes with me,
Can’t be forgotten or left unpacked
With it along I’m never bored.

When diapers are done comes new control,
This thing will work for me!
It never breaks
Like that squirt gun, dropped and cracked.
I have to GO NOW!
No problem, a tree is here.
It doesn’t matter that cars go by.
I’m Mostly dressed,
No dropping pants, no squatting needed - this thing can aim!
Convenient as well as fun.

Then comes the discovery that it can get hurt,
Slapping and rapping, pinching and punching,
Take on a whole new meaning and form.

Bonding with Dad……..who would have thought,
Of writing names in snow?
Fleeting but memorable………
And watching TV,
A warm cozy place, safe haven for our hands.

The teenage years and all their angst,
A mind of IT’S own,
Or so they claim.
The central focus of all in life,
Both good and bad.
The punch line of all jokes.

Males and their p****,
Each stage of growth brings differences and similarities.
A toy, a tool, a friend……………………….