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Click hereSit. Smile. Look pretty
and be the cliché
wife who waits for her husband
to come home three hours late.
Be the
laundry folding, carpool driving,
blowjob giving, dinner making
goddess he never has
to thank or kiss or see
beyond that polka-dotted dress
he loves.
Be the
flower planting, grocery shopping,
clothes buying, ego stroking
blow-up doll he takes to bed
with him.
Be his always caring,
always sorry,
ever helpful
centerpiece.
you really need to learn how to form an opinion.... lol
love you. sg
Yuck! Just to think that there are pseudo-men who consider this the perfect wife. In this scenario the dog gets a higher degree of attention.
However, your poem's subject makes me sad. Women, wife, girlfriend, partner—they are more than someone pretty to look at, you can touch them too. And I don't just mean physically, I mean emotionally and spiritually too.
Thanks Duckie, this a very good poem.
Or have not disappeared as we wished they would. Nothing is linear whatever was won could be lost again. I am a man but it frustrates me so much. Taking things for granted.
The purchasers owners maintainers of the “centerpieces” will always be there, craving to expend their purchases when the ‘old ones’ become boring, and when they feel that they can, and when women like center piece here feel (silence inside silence outside) that they can’t do any thing else but wait. You crush us with the catalog of the expected emotional and physical services. It grows to include not only her activities but her appearance and her body. Totally surrounded and immersed in all these roles – she is totally trapped.