Peruked from a time,
When masquerades were the rage.
And little boys and little girls...
Satisfied their fancies.
The elders curbed their perverted urges.
Under burlap, hopsack and lace...
And replaced later by silk and houndstooth,
To disguise their heated lusts...
And naked tastes for a screw in the hay!
Discreeted with the best of principles projected.
Those perverted and peruked.
Sweat!
With standards of lives...
And an etiquette!
Oh yes.
And today,
As those centuries have long passed away!
Those perverted urges are still there.
But faded are those standards...
Yet
Attempts are made,
By some who try to keep temptations hidden!
While butts and thighs...
With tattoed breasts!
Are clearly exposed and on display!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hey...it is what it is! Yes, it is hypocritical. But what are standards kept? Without a bit of nakedness to accept or reject!