By Jlor jlorenz@saber.net
Date: 18 July 1999
Angel
Angel bows her head
Shedding a pearly-irridescent tear,
For the shattering of yet another dream.
Her taffeta-velvet wings
Bruised and torn--
Well nigh ripped off
By another sex starved male--
Aren't they all--
Who cruelly didn't pay her proper homage
And cancelled his promissory romantic notes
Leaving her pristine dignity badly sullied;
And her angelic person feeling sadly bullied
By his insolent display of resistance,
And his impudent refusal to bend the knee in docile compliance
To her desire for total domination of the show.
So resentful is she at his act of defiance.
That she has put all hopes of seeing her in abeyance
And has expelled him from her sight
So that her righteous annoyance
Might be understandably satisfied.
"His cruelty is yet another sign," she sniffed,
Of the basic nature if men : they are all wholly ill bred"
So, withdrawing all future bliss
She breathes a sigh of relief
And wholly taken with grief,
Angel begins to speak again, saying,
"Oh, why did I open myself
Like a flower of love
Only to be mocked by another worthless dud
And trampled under his feet in the mud?
Woe to me the day I took another accursed, fatal sip
Drinking from that poisoned cup,
Called, ' relationship'!
I was innocently beguiled by his conniving deceit,
Now, my heart lies broken by this bitter defeat."
Angel sobs and mercilessly consoles herself
Vengefully denouncing this brute to all who will listen,
And even if she knows there'll be some goodies
That for a while she'll be missin'.
She has made a carefully timed calculation
Of how long it will take to reel in another
And commence romantic relations...
Her angelic halo may for now be dimmed,
But her faith in her own goodness never is!
Meanwhile, Angel curses and weeps loud and clear:
Esconcing herself in sanitized, perfumed, manure of steer;
Neatly lying in her bed of perfect denial;
Covering her heart in permafrost,
Her seedy, ungerminated resentment
Awaiting another springtime
Of renewed hopes and budding contentment;
She may be sadder, but wiser, now,
Yet all is not lost:
In no time she'll find a "good" man
Who likes to be bossed
In Angel's words, "who doesn't play games."
Which is Angel's way of saying,
"Next time he'll do things MY way."
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