by Robin A Spicer
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The story of a Philanderer.I have no idea why I wrote this, Just feeling bored I guess. My first attempt at this style of poetry.
The Demise of A man Of Pleasure
Standing there in his brand new suit
Pondering on how this could be.
Had half a mind to turn and scoot
Before he saw his Bride to be
His mind went back, that fateful night
He met her at the culture club
Bought her a drink, thought she would bite
They had a few, and well, that’s the rub.
They had wandered off, up to her flat
Spent the night in exploration.
From kitchen bench to bearskin rug
Needs no further explanation.
The morning came, the ringing bell,
A pounding came upon the door
There stood Daddy, Bloody 'ell
Then Daddy knocked him to the floor
Daddy was a simple man, Angelo’s his name.
When seeing his Daughter on the bed,
Knew well, the nature of Stanley’s game.
And Daddy’s demeanour filled Stan with dread
There stood her Brothers, clubs in hand
There to defend the family Honour
They stood around him, that menacing band
Poor Stanley new he was a goner
A scream came from the open door, enough to wake the dead
Then Momma came charging into the room
She rushed to her Daughter, still on the bed,
And the look she gave, spelled Stanley’s doom.
For thirty years he’d been unwed,
Lying and cheating to have his fun
Love them and leave ‘em on the bed
He’d be gone out the door before the sun
Snapped back to the present, here comes the Bride
The Priest was standing, a smile on his face.
Her Brothers standing at Stanley’s side,
Making sure Stanley, don’t move from his place
He gave a sigh, resigned to his fate
The price of having a great night of fun,
To end up having a lifetime mate
Being forced to Wed, at point of a gun.
Robin A. Spicer © Feb 2003