A Good Looking Woman Is to Blame

She said to me,
“I have never seen anyone so scared to dance.”
“Pardon me, but it isn’t the dance,
It’s the men on the stage who frighten me.”

She is viewed as an object,
Labelled and tagged as eye candy,
Independent, married or single,
Women never have it easy.

The smart, educated man is everywhere,
On the streets, in a crowded place, at work, at parties,
Young, old, middle-aged,
They all have their stories straight,
In the twenties, he is brash,
God’s greatest gift to gals,
In his thirties, there is plenty of charm,
A woman he flaunts as his wife,
And a fling alongside,
In his forties, life’s a tad dull,
He gets by, though,
Eyeing the oh, so lovely woman at the bar,
In the fifties, he fuels the rumour mill,
‘Oh, young ladies like that are the biggest whores’,
I hear the old man has two daughters of his own...

Hey, but you can’t really blame him,
Its his psyche,
Corrupted, degenerate,
We give him birth, our flesh, our blood,
Yet, we fail to instil,
A little respect,
To let him know, “Cast your eyes low,
And should you raise them to our face,
Let there be only appreciation and praise,
And no trace of the ugly testosterone raising its horn.

He needs to be educated,
But ‘We’ need to educate,
He is inferior to that degree,
Because only we have the gift to create,
To nurture a sapling into a tree.