She’s such a pretty missy

they call her – Lilly, Chrissie, Sissy…

but she has got a secret name

it’s SLUT – a beauty with no aim, no shame.

You must have seen her here or there.

You just can’t miss the light she glares.

Her big wet eyes will make you weak,

her fluffy hair so soft and sleek

will dizzy your mind with the cherry scent –

leading you straight to the bitter end.

The way she speaks with you is such an art.
She sings her song just like the Bard,

The words – spilling flowers from her mouth.

Her voice – sounds like a purple sunset from the South.

She smiles – and all you see is Light.

She laughs – and all you hear is right.

She touches gently, you are melting.

You can’t see the rain – so pelting.

But when you go to her, where is the real one, the other?

The other patient, silent creature you forgot.

The one, whose gleamy joy you smother

when you put a mask and pretend to be a God.

For you, that’s all so faultless, yet so perfect!

But you see only on the surface.

Let me tell you what your lovely Slut is hiding.

And in the end when you come back to me whining,

you’ll see all that glitters is not gold.

Then, my love, you won’t be so bold.

You see – her long legs, her big breast.

I see – the Scarlet letter on her chest.

Now she’s got bloodshot eyes.

From them no longer pretty sparkles fly.

Her hair is rusted from the rain.

She knows the only thing she’ll ever gain

is Dirt – ‘cause she became a monster

and Hell is now her cloister.

Don’t start to pity!

That’s just another sin she will commit.

Is she still your “sweetie”?

Now tell me do you like it?

Your charming angel has big horns.

They did say - every rose has its thorns.

You really see her now – the Bad Apple.

But you tasted – now you’re sick.

Your heart in her dirty hands she’ll grapple

and every drop of purity she’ll lick.

Now you see the other one is waiting.

No longer pain you’ll be creating.

Because when you were flirting

she was chocking in her tears.

And with your actions you were hurting,

increasing all her fears.

In the end, I wonder: Are you done?!

Beware, my love, you might find my doors shut.

My patience and my rage are like a loaded gun.

You can have her! I’m not competing with a Slut!