The Disappearing Man

Love is simply for the meek,
The uncertain, the unbiased,
For the sheep.

You criticize me,
As your marriage makes you grey & feeble,
Your genitalia grows saggy & old,
While with every tweak of a nipple,
Mine grow ten-fold.

I have a life to lead,
I have a mouth to feed,
Behold my curly head,
Where I feast between fair maidens legs,
Where I devour & devour till fulfilled.

You mock & you stare, you glean & you glare,
Propose that I will lament when I am old & lonely,
With no wife to warm my toesy’s

I am not made like you; you withering fools,
How arrogant you are to believe,
That someone out there has the same dreams and ambitions to which you take heed?

No you fools; when I am old,
I will remember with glee,
Those fleeting moments of lust & fantasy,
And there will be a young blonde,
To suck my toesy’s.