No matter how many hot websites I haunt,
It’s never that easy to get what I want;
I can’t make connections with ease it now seems,
With Mister Right-Now or The Man of My Dreams.
Connections are lost or they’re not made at all;
I give him my number but don’t get a call.
His profile online says he loves to give head
But then when I call him he’s going to bed,
Or he’s not in the mood, or he just made a date,
Or he has to work early and now it’s too late,
Or his roommate came home, or he’s just caught a cold,
Or he thinks it’s too far, (or perhaps I’m too old)
Or he has to be careful (he’s married of course!),
Or he’ll only stop by if I’m hung like a horse
But he has to be sure of the size of my dick
And insists that I email a recent dick-pic.
So I try to comply with a full frontal nude
And then he ignores me, which I find quite rude.
And speaking of manners I herein deplore -
“No, Thank You.” is what a “Reply” button’s for
I always respond in a manner polite
With every respectful refusal I write.
But if ever a guy doesn’t even reply
Forever thereafter will I wonder why…?
Perhaps he was looking for somebody younger
Or hotter, or hairier (probably hung-er)
Or cannot quite stimulate centers endorphic
Unless he is mating with men mesomorphic,
Or maybe he parties and wants a whole gang
To use him, abuse him and brutally bang,
To fist him while twisting his tits in a vice,
But somehow to me, that just doesn’t sound nice.
Yet looking online I still cherish the hopes
Of winnowing out all the losers and dopes,
The liars, the lepers, the tweakers and then
To finally connect with some quality men,
Including this wish in each message I send
“I hope you’re a lover… I’ll settle for friend.”