When young women with pretty eyes
And loose thighs flirt
With older guys,
And the onlookers tut in disgust,
Sometimes I think, why the fuss,
For girls with pretty eyes,
The wealthy guys,
And those who now criticise,
All will be dust.
Sugar so sweet
Looks down on girls who, on ill shod feet
Patrol the cold and lonely street.
She turns up her delicate nose
At those who in cheap clothes
Under street lamps pose.
Sugar loves fine wines
And in expensive restaurants dines
With her darling Honey
Who spends his money
As though there were no tomorrow,
Thereby concealing some inner sorrow?
Sugar so sweet
And the girl on the street
Engage in the same profession.
Discretion
Is sugar’s middle name
But, in the end they are both the same.
—
K Morris - Poet 