Bearded Brats

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this poem is not about anybody here on the soup

A good woman allows her man to prolong his child h o o d Now we're an army of bearded spoiled beings. Self-centered. Come and go as we please. Hang our dirty thoughts on the backdoor. Void of romance, sex on demand. Tie one on, then piss on the floor. Swinging from the limbs of your emotional tree. Feed our hearts to that pretty young thing down the street. Yet you still bleach the stains from our day. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Good women deserve real man.

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Kim Rodrigues

Date: 9/4/2016 12:22:00 PM

I love the contrast of thought. Does a good woman really let her man linger in childhood? Love the flow and layout of your poem. Nicely done.

Lin Lane

Date: 9/3/2016 12:00:00 PM

You just called some men 'a monkey." haha Seriously though, I once lived with a bearded brat. I called him Peter Pan. I had to leave because he still lives in Never Never Land. A good woman deserves a good man, not a brat.

John Fleming

Date: 9/3/2016 11:52:00 AM

A thought-provoking bit of poetry, Anthony; an interesting little read! My best regards. :) john