Last night you proclaimed I was gorgeous,
but you don’t know how I feel,
for this morning you withdrew your love
and left me to feel like a sexual meal.

Why must you men “pull out all the stops”,
so we’ll trust you with our hearts,
and we’ll give you our bodies to prove it,
when it is only to have sex that you want?

This is the struggle of ages,
the rift of women and men,
and every night it continues
with no hope it will end.

Poem & Photo by Therese Gramercy, copyright 2009, all rights reserved.