Baby man – prose to a certain type of person

A small bit of prose dedicated to a certain someone


The thing that’s so sad

Is you’re so close to ‘good’

A small whisker off ‘nice’

If you just understood.

You’re often quite fun

Good looking and fit

If only you were not

So totally shit.

Self centred and absorbed

Always me, me, me

You rely on your charm

To get things for free.

You pull easily

You call yourself Poly

When really it’s just

You’re a big giant wally.

All the girls at once

Is what you desire

But your dick, it is mono

And your behavior is dire.

Throw people away

When you got what you need

Chasing the next one

Is really your creed.

In private you talk

Of love and of care

All meaningless words

You throw into the air.

You want to be loved

By whoever’s at hand

Discarding when done

Bodies littering the sand.

You never look back

You know what you’d see

Ahead is your goal

All those fish in the sea.

Your mates all support you

She’s crazy, they said

Whenever the shadow

Of doubt pops in your head.

It cannot be you

Cause you’re the good guy

It’s all the girls

You dismiss at one try.

So onwards you go

A giant man child

A thick baby man

Who is really quite vile


Baby man – prose to a certain type of person

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