THE RUBBER POEM
Kissing is a habit
Fucking is a game
Guys get the pleasure
Girls get the pain
The guy says, “I love you!”
You believe it’s true
But when your tummy starts to swell
He says, “To hell with you!”
Ten minutes of pleasure
Nine months in pain
Three days in a hospital
And a baby without a name
The baby is a bastard
The mother is a whore
This wouldn’t happen
If the rubber was put on
c: poet
Kissing is a habit
Fucking is a game
Guys get the pleasure
Girls get the pain
The guy says, “I love you!”
You believe it’s true
But when your tummy starts to swell
He says, “To hell with you!”
Ten minutes of pleasure
Nine months in pain
Three days in a hospital
And a baby without a name
The baby is a bastard
The mother is a whore
This wouldn’t happen
If the rubber was put on
c: poet