Nothing to Offer

perhaps, an attractive quality,

that women would be pleased to find

a man whose heart is well-inclined,

who’d whisper bastions through her tears

and listen them clean off her face,

but as the lonely years rack up,

I see that this is not the case.

I thought that loyalty might be,

perhaps, an attractive quality,

that women would be pleased to find

a man who’s parallel aligned,

who’d understand, defending her,

the one and only of the race

but as the lonely years rack up,

I see that this is not the case.

I thought that openness might be,

perhaps, an attractive quality,

that women would be pleased to find

a man who’s free and unconfined

by social chains and who can share

the contents of his inner space

but as the lonely years rack up,

I see that this is not the case.

I thought reflectiveness might be,

perhaps, an attractive quality,

that women would be pleased to find

a man engaged with his own mind,

who thinks and questions all the time,

to bring him to a better place,

but as the lonely years rack up,

I see that this is not the case.

It seems stability might be

the most attractive quality,

material wealth, a fixed idea

of some prestige-bedecked career

that anchors both your stature-loving

stilettos to a sturdy base

like that’s all life is for. You’ve nothing

to offer me if that’s the case.