Here’s the thing: How do real women compete?
You show the cream of the crop, dressed to please.
Must they also be feminist and wise.
Christian and compassionate in their heart?
Man, is that bar set really high for us.
If forces us to ask are you their type?
I know. I know. The heart wants what it wants
Said Woody A. as he counted his cash,
Making sure Sun Yi can see it mount up.
Because, you know it’s all about money.
Which none of us have anymore, I fear.
It’s not cheaper to keep her in silky lace.
It makes people pity you, I fear, Love.
It makes women fear your displeasure, Love.
Because we get older, we sag, wrinkle.
Or were not born tall enough or thin enough.
Which means we have no value to you. Love.
All I ask is that you think about Granny.
When she looks like a bad Playboy cartoon
In a bustier and spiked heels over
Sags and wrinkles and a bit of a spread.
Perhaps you must find one so very young
That you will not live to see her aging.
And pray to God she understands you, Love.
You do deserve the best, I know, but, oh
It hurts us to think that that means just looks.
When we have so little control of that.
Close your eyes so to be kissed and caressed.
You don’t have to vocalize your daydream
And give yourself someone to talk with in
The lonely dark.
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