drunken conversation.

I told him straight to his face
I don’t trust men–
well, except my daddy.
They all lie
and cheat
then lie about the cheating.

They all start out nice
and seem like a dream
right out of some fairy tale.
That’s what girls are supposed to want, right?
A Prince Charming?
Because that’s what society whispers
in tiny pierced ears as they are handed Barbies
and the boys get trucks.

I’m getting off topic.
Just like a woman, I suppose.

I can’t totally fault a man for being an ass.
Society says that’s okay too.

But basically I let him know
I hate men,
mostly because of their ways.

He smiled,
just as sweet as I knew he would
and promised to prove me wrong.

Right then, he was proving me right.


2 Comments to “drunken conversation.”

  1. I couldn’t agree more, I should know, I’m a guy. : )

    Real men are difficult to come by, the rest fall into the category/search-term: men and their vain, fragile egos…

    I had always hoped to consider myself honorable; I don’t smoke or drink or none of that stuff; ever since my own accident (I completely understand mine wasn’t near as bad as yours) my self-esteem has been a little on the rocks. Hopefully a good job someday will fix all that…

    I see you’ve been quite prolific in your writing here; I hope things are going well for you though.

  2. Drunken or not, you’ve observed and learned and expressed it well. Just remember … someday, somewhere there will be an exception. Greatly enjoy your poetry.

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