Miss Fortune's Misfortune

A descriptive tragic poem

She must have heard Ben was tested and trusted,
But her expensively weavoned and hatted head
Was too incapable to decipher what she heard
So she believed but ended up tasted and thrusted
At first sight, she'd envisioned him a perfect complement;
One that would not only fill her hole but make her feel whole,
Perhaps because of his grace and warm compliment,
Or his classy ride with a lot of cash in the pigeonhole
They had fun day and night for a fortnight;
Warnings and sermons went in through the left ear,
But, faster than they went in, went out through the right;
His name and tales were all she longed to hear
"This married man is sick, your future will be marred"
But the warner was warned and branded mad,
Perhaps world-people were envious of her fortune
And should go and bury themselves in their misfortune

You see, those who fail to tame their desires:
Those whose waist subtly usurps their head
And those whose appetite wears a crown
Tread the same unholy path and never part
'Cause they're fated to a common destination

Today, Miss Fortune was thrown in one piece,
A tiny bony morsel into earth's gaping mouth
I know not if that virus let's its victims rest in peace;
Ben, a hive of HIV? Not from my mouth!

©Uche Ahunanya