She’s a piece of meat, fresh off the block,
still dripping blood from the cuts the butcher made.
Sections of an animal ready to be given away
to the highest paying customer.
Breasts, thighs, tail, wings.
You see me, what do you see?
Nothing but a thing ready for the slaughter,
the feeding, what have you.
Sing me love songs, give me roses, diamond rings
and I’m yours?
Love is what she seeks
but the low down stuff is what the rest slobber over.
Love never felt better than between two, consenting adults.
Not a child and a scum.
Silver platters, gold earrings, all this and more.
He thinks this is her longing, her wanting is simply love.
Love everlasting, not objects overflowing.
You see her, walking down the street, what do you see?
Breasts, thighs, tail, wings.
A piece of meat fresh off the block.
Some people never change.
