Poem – Dalliance

Her shop was in a city

Neath a giant number four

At first she seemed a pleasant sort

But I found her out the whore

 

She said she saught adventure

That she’d not stand a bore

And I can understand that

But I’m rotten to the core

 

A new man every day she had

And between every chore

She was quite a generous lover

So I came back for more

 

Hated by wives and mothers

As suitors never left her poor

But money never stopped a woman

From settling a score

 

And on one of her risqué evenings

Through her bodware tore

An angry wife with a knife

And my play mate was no more

 

So if you meet such a kind woman

One with an open door

Enjoy her while you have her mate

Cause she’ll be dead.

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