In love or war, a wound is bound to fester
Unless it’s treated with the proper care.
You somehow thought, the first time you undressed her,
That she was your devoted servant, there
To wash and fold your dirty underwear
Forever—yards of cotton/polyester
Amalgam most enlightened men forswear.
You met this woman in your first semester
At college. You were just a green molester
Still wet behind the ears, with shaggy hair
And ignorant of failings that might test her
Forgiving nature, spoiling the affair.
But it was you who found no time to spare
For tying knots: You were the footloose jester
Whose easy promises were made of air,
Providing nothing for your first investor.
The ghosts of many might-have-beens will pester
A wight who lacks the fortitude to dare
Becoming a potential empty-nester
Within the cosmic architect’s parterre,
The place where selfish bastards learn to share.
The spacious hole you’ve dug yourself is yester-
Day’s news, and though it seems you have no prayer,
You own unsquandered funds you may sequester.