Most things can be bought.
Peas and rice
Are nice,
And vice
That too can be bought.

I know
That one can buy
A semblance ,
A resemblance
Of love, though
Cupid’s arrow
Is never shot.

A hot
Date will thrill
The man of pleasure
But, at his leisure
A thought
May, perchance
Come, “’tis fun
To dance
With the escort.
To hold her tight
Throughout the night.
But, come the morning light …
Love can not be bought”.

Or perhaps he doesn’t care
And, with his graying hair
He continues down pleasure’s primrose path,
Where the devil does silently laugh
And whispers low
“You know
I will have you in the end
My friend.
Paid for charms
Can not save thee from the arms
Of the devil of lonliness

When her party dress comes off
You may hear me cough
And say
One day
You will die alone
Or by the side
Of a girl who can not decide
Her name
Which she does change
Like the weather.
It comes to the same
Thing in the end,
Though you may pretend
Otherwise, and avert your eyes
From the truth
Of the descending roof”.