The Pauper McCartyA Poem by Brenden MoranA poem about a night of funIt was quite late in the fall After a quiet ball During the late night hours With cocktail drinks and dancing And many bachelors a-glancing At pretty younger girls And all their curls That Madame L’eve In all of her speed Ran quite right into me Now she didn’t see me So I left her be After a quick pardon me But she let slip In my pocket A little note indeed It was no bill fortunately As I unwrapped it in my hand But I found it much worse So I let out a curse For on it was scribbled a time and date Requesting a me as a play mate Tis a shame for a party so smashing To end with this written lashing To my entire good name and fortune For I’m a man with the best taste Who refrains from women so chaste I laughed it off and smiled again For this wasn’t the start or end Many old widows and bachelorettes Black, brown, blond and brunettes Agree I am cursed as the greatest temptation And what can I do with this expectation? So they come year around There isn’t a season my body surrounds It belongs to all who seek it out Like I was water…in a drought Fortunately Madame L’eve Didn’t spend her night with me But the Duchess of France Allured me with her trance And there it is, my life’s story Feeding off not fame or glory But of the rich women at a dull party And that’s me, the Pauper McCarty
© 2012 Brenden MoranAuthor's Note
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14 Reviews Added on August 9, 2011 Last Updated on May 20, 2012 Tags: Poetry, Party, Player, Egotistical, Rhyming Author
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