Recurring Pain

If it wasn't for Adam and Eve,
None of us would suffer...
From cabin fever.

If it wasn't for the birds and bees,
None of us would say...
A thing about that either.

But there are those,
Who think this all is something to change.
As if it can be re-arranged.

And there are those,
Who think that sex is just a game.
To be played always the same.

If it wasn't for Adam and Eve,
None of us would suffer...
From cabin fever.

If it wasn't for the birds and bees,
None of us would say...
A thing about that either.

But there are those,
Who think this all is something to change.
To arrange in the brain.

And there are those,
Who think that sex is just a game.
To be always played the same.

And there are those,
Who think this all is something to change.
As if it can be re-arranged.

And there are those,
Who think that sex is just a game.
To be always played the same.

And there are those,
Who think this all is something to change.
As if it can be re-arranged...
To change something that's in the brain.

And there are those,
Who think that sex is just a game.
To be always played the same.
Like a draining campaign.

And there are those,
Who think this all is something to change.
As if it can be re-arranged...
To change something that's in the brain.

And there are those,
Who think that sex is just a game.
To be always played the same.
Like a draining campaign,
That gets boring from the strain.
As if it can be re-arranged...
To change something that's in the brain.
A brain that seems to be insane!
And a wish to gift others with,
Recurring pain!

Oops!
Ouch.
It's a recurring pain.

And hard to boot!
Ouch.
This recurring pain.

When it is booted!
Oops!
A recurring pain.

And hard to boot it too.
Recurring pain.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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