An Awful Truth
Do most old women stop enjoying sex
Once the saggy baggy phase sets in?
Could any potent male regard these wrecks
As outlets for the joys of carnal sin?
Lechery in randy, aging goats
Arises at the thought of flesh still fresh ––
Softly rounded curves and slim white throats
Not too long departed from the creche.
Ironic that old pussies cracked and wizened
Still dream of ardent service from Fair Youth,
But no matter how these crones appear bedizened
‘Tis just their cash that lures, and that’s the truth.
The resource that best sustains us when we’re old
Is found in vaults replete with jewels and gold.