At my door there is a sight,
The lonely lady of noxious night.
These eyes are schooled,
But currently ruled,
By two sires, sweet and sinister.
Two desires that I administer
To girls that know my doorway.
But Miss Green knows her preference,
My caution absolved,
My sweetness dissolved,
Loving, adoring words are thrown,
Ones my dormant heart has known,
Used as pretensions ever should,
Fused, my intentions were never good,
Lust, possessive, clutched in fingers,
Her, obsessive essence lingers,
Within these walls,
The pillow calls,
For her head,
Love is dead,
When in my bed,
With Miss Green.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.