Poetry With A Mission

...a thought provoking poetical exercise.

Beauty Beware

There’s an enchanting flower that's dwelling in a lushish flowerbed,
One that is ringed by pearly petals, and has a burnished golden head.
And just like a diamond that's in a crown, it bedazzles passers-by,
Who commonly stop to view its beauty, and are heard to coo and sigh.

It towers over the others that adorn the same flowerbed too,
Being the best of all the flowers there, that were planted and quickly grew.
It leans towards the spellbound viewer, beckoning them to stay awhile,
Yes, it’s truly alluring, so intriguing, and so sure to beguile.

It lazes in the warming sunshine, and it’s seen jiving with the breeze,
It takes showers in the rain, and very teasingly, makes people sneeze.
Yes, it excites the observer, plays tootsie with passing buzzy bees,
And it flirts with the gardener too, who each day this real stunner sees.

It’s scrupulously tendered, and it's monitored habitually,
It’s a classic, it's a prize winner, for it's sculptured so perfectly.
It’s the pick of the bunch, it’s streets ahead — it would knock the judges dead,
Yes, it’s absolutely top-notch, it's a jewel amongst a flowerbed.

Well, I could leave it there, but I would rather not — therefore, on I’ll go,
Given that all about this flower, I'm wanting everyone to know.
And should you stroll past this garden, friend, you too, will soon understand why
I am waxing so lyrical here, and suggesting that you pass by.

It’s not often that such you will see, for such beauty is very rare,
Which is why so many passers-by will take the time to stop and stare.
In fact, I’m rather surprised that this flower is still residing there,
For surely admirers are tempted — and there are those who may well dare.

Hence why the following's worth pondering on, and very thoughtfully,
And that is, that beauty has a downside, oft sparks vanity and jealousy,
And that if we're blessed with beauty, not to strut about like a peacock,
But rather, humbly mingle with others, for beauty has a time clock.

By Lance Landall

You're Fine The Way You Are

So many nice women are needlessly falling victim to the plastic surgeon’s knife,
Who, whilst relieving them of thousands of dollars, assaults their body, plays with their life.
Yes, so needlessly, for the problem’s seldom with their body, but rather, in their mind,
For within its caverns, some self-esteem issue, (or other), one’s most likely to find.

Thus, with the dangers of the likes of implants downplayed, (given big money is at stake),
So many women whose breasts are fine but smaller, that foolish road to bigger ones take.
And as a consequence — and over time — they not only more money have to outlay,
And return visits make, but suffer from what those silicon companies do not say.

Minor and major health issues are related to such, but not always realized though,
In other words, it’s thought that they’re due to something else, (which has them feeling or laid low).
Or to which the local doctor just shakes his head, and admits he really doesn’t know,
Given that connections can’t always be clearly made, unlike nasty ones that do show.

And all this due to women being made to feel that they should succumb to such surgery,
Thanks to those images and pressures that advertisers inflict on society.
Hence the rush for the artificial, the cosmetic, that unnatural air-brushed look,
That’s seen in those TV adds, on shop windows and walls, and in that magazine or book.

And adding to all this, that competitive sexy look, where breasts are bared generously,
Which has less well endowed women feeling envious, thinking in terms of surgery.
And then there are those who’ve had a mastectomy, who also upset and pressure feel,
Which advertisers, and women who succumb to their adds, joy from other women steal...

...well, effectively, and indirectly, given what they publicly flaunt and reveal.

Yes, it’s all a game, a very cruel, thoughtless, childish one, and so unnecessary,
For a woman’s a woman whether large or small — a work of art, femininity.
Yes, the opposite and compliment to masculinity, and there’s where it should lie,
Not in size, sexy clothing, or in air-brushed looks, but in the apple of a man’s eye.

At the end of the day, a woman’s for loving — she’s not a doll or a mannequin;
Her true beauty lies in her very being, for age soon attacks and disfigures one’s skin.
It’s better that they face reality, appreciate what they have, and keep healthy,
And not succumb to those seductive lines (lies) that advertisers spin repeatedly…

...nor to those artificial breasts that fatten more than just a woman’s anatomy...

...mastectomies excluded here, understandably. 

By Lance Landall


You may wish to visit the following website:  www.myimplantstory.com

Hands Off Women!

So many women have borne the brunt of some man’s thoughtless insensitivity,
Or they have borne the brunt of some man’s selfishness, callousness or depravity.
Yes, they’ve either been abused sexually, physically or emotionally,
And daily have to live with the fact that rape is a distinct possibility.

And come war, they’re often seen as fair game, some low-life soldier’s opportunity,
And as if that’s not enough, are oft lustfully leered at within society.
All of which shows that dark side that’s far too often a part of masculinity,
Or at least a part of those men who’ve chosen the path of evil and tyranny.

Such is man at his worst, who, rather than acting nobly, acts barbarically,
And who thereby discards his protective role, duty and responsibility,
For men shouldn’t take advantage of a woman, but rather, ensure her safety,
And that of her children, or anyone who’s exposed to vulnerability.

Women were never meant to be playthings, a sexual object, nor some man’s prey,
But rather, the object of a man’s loving concern, and in every single way.
In other words, every man should always have a woman’s best interests at heart,
Treating her with even greater thought and care than he would a priceless work of art.

So many women are left in tears, left sporting bruises and emotional scars,
All of which their rights, needs, desires and dreams assaults, and so unfairly their life mars.
And then there’s betrayal, an all too common occurrence — a cruel, bloody arrowhead,
For it deeply cuts and wounds, sacks their inner sanctum, and love for their man, oft leaves dead.

All such women deserve so much better, and yet, suffer at the hands of some male,
Be it via rape, molestation, violence, put downs, blunt words, neglect or betrayal,
Be it via their father, husband, some relation, friend, or stranger who comes their way,
For wherever there are renegade men, there are innocent women and foul play.

Thus, hands off women! — I say.

Yes, it’s time men backed off, and let them be, it’s time men grew up, changed their brutish ways,
For mistreating women isn’t manly, but rather, immaturity conveys.
Yes, it’s time men acted like real men, and treated women with tender loving care,
For those that don’t, bring shame on all men, and also, their own demise thus engineer.

By Lance Landall

Mind Those Who Play With Hearts

Of all the crimes here on Earth, there’s one that must surely rate pretty high, and that is, playing with someone’s heart,
Yes, a very cruel action, no minor infraction, which some cads even seem to have down to a fine art.
And oh, how they mislead, appear so convincing — even genuine — when in fact very far from sincere,
They soon leaving behind a pool of tears — a broken heart — the truth discovered too late, but now crystal-clear.

And against such, there’s oft little protection, given that love is prone to blindness, most not wanting to see,
Even though others have noticed the signs, and thus the danger, a danger that the conned refute testily.
However, time duly proves that they were mistaken, and the others right, but oft not before much injury,
For those who play with someone’s heart, reach deep inside that person’s very being, a tender inner sanctuary.

And there, they tear and wound, the heart bleeding profusely, and sometimes terminally, such being too much for some,
While others simply don’t trust again, remaining single and cynical, and less holistic thus become.
For there within their trifled heart, they harbour that which can only but do more harm than good, prolong the agony,
Which a deliberate or simply thoughtless and selfish act caused, leaving behind another casualty.

And hence those pithy words of many a philosopher, for such injury is as old as history,
And why the wise person not only listens to wisdom, but acts upon it, preventing such injury.
Yes, such is easier said than done, admittedly — but better done than not, feelings held in check by sense,
For those who play with hearts are actually the enemies of love, their callous plundering oft immense.

By Lance Landall

When Hometime's A Nightmare

When a wife doesn’t look forward to her husband coming home, nor a child its father, there is nothing so sad,
For that arrival time, (given that his workday is over), is something that should make every wife and child glad.
However, in far too many homes, be they opulent or ramshackled, such is a tragic daily affair,
Where selfishness, insensitivity and injury on the part of the husband come father, chills the air.

Users, abusers, unfair accusers — call them what you will — and so often boozers, who make those homes a hell,
Hence those sad and shameful tales that many a battered, shattered wife, and sexually molested child can tell.
Oh, such betrayal, such cowardness, such callousness, of which no man should ever stoop to, nor even entertain,
That instead of daily doses of emotional sunshine, delivers weeks, months and years of storm clouds and rain.

Yes, deeds that go on unseen behind closed doors and curtains, leaving behind a trail of heartbreak and misery,
The fear of such showing in the eyes of those who’re so afflicted, (which only the discerning see, possibly).
And they — the cruelly abused — left shocked and numb, racked by feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, even self blame,
Drowning in an emotional whirlpool — every distressing day, or every distressing night, always the same.

Yes, some mother and father’s daughter, who made the wrong choice, thus ensuring the suffering of her child as well,
And her not necessarily to blame, for oh, how suitors can deceive, making some marriage a living hell.
Hence how hometime can become a nightmare for many wives and children — upper class, middle class, or lower class,
Whose happiness is destroyed by such spoilers, ravagers of the soul, who make each day just like treading on glass.

By Lance Landall

Cosmetics And Criminality

It’s such a tragedy — even a crime — that so many women are undergoing plastic surgery,
Thanks to irresponsible doctors and surgeons who are often aiding the cruel cosmetic industry.
An industry that spends billions on conning women, who, thanks to the deceptive spiel and pressure out there,
Gradually succumb to, or willingly embrace, that which soon becomes a burden that they’re  forced to bear.

That is, when such goes wrong, and often it does, hence why certain things should never be condoned by anyone,
Especially doctors and plastic surgeons, who, by the way, oft don’t give all the facts before something’s done.
Hence that physical and emotional pain that many women go through after things go badly astray,
Which has them longing for that health they once had, and even that way they once looked — oh, how those who know betray.

Yes, cosmetics-cum-criminality — an industry that has women harming their health, wasting their money,
And also their time, for so much is spent on the body beautiful — and all of it unnecessary —
For most women are perfectly okay as they are, and aren’t in need of harmful cosmetics or surgery,
Which, at the end of the day, denies them the freedom of being themselves, and turns them into a forgery.

In other words, their painted faces effectively lie, exchanging the truth for what’s really fantasy,
For airbrushed looks aren’t the norm, and when removed, may leave one’s partner less content — preferring the lie, you see.
And lie, cosmetics do, midst lining the pockets of those who make a killing out of conning women, who,
Should be accepted, desired and cherished for who they are, not how they look — though one can appreciate looks too.

By Lance Landall

I Wish That You'd Chosen Me

Yes, I truly would have loved you, and deeply so, and would’ve treated you well, but I just didn’t look the part,
And therefore, you chose another man — one whom I couldn’t compete with — but who didn’t have the same caring heart.
I like to think that I would’ve made you very happy, despite my lack of means, but you had the right to choose,
And in my heart I wished you well, despite all those tears that inwardly fell — hey, I’m so sorry about that bruise.

I know that I am rather plain, just an everyday kind of guy — yes, somewhat uneducated and unskilled,
And he, well and truly streets ahead, but if I’d just been given the same chance, your wishes would’ve been fulfilled.
Well, at least in the sense of my really loving you, showering you with affection, time, care and protection,
For money I don’t have — hey, I’m so sorry he roughed you up — and so wish that you’d headed in my direction.

I’ve known so many men like him — yes, they can play the game, and have the looks, the money, even the expertise,
But when it comes to faithfulness, and what a woman truly desires within, they so often fail to please.
I’m aware of their banter, and those roving eyes, how they love to spend time with the boys, and too often their beer,
Thus I guess I saw it coming, but it was he, rather than me, whispering all those promises in your ear.

Yes, I truly would have loved you, and very deeply so, and how I wish that you had been attracted to me,
But I wasn’t as confident as him, nor as experienced, and I guess you noticed my naivety.
Well, I’ve come a long way since then, but if only I’d been given the chance — hey, I’m so sorry about those scars,
And though it’s still unlikely that you’ll come my way, I’m glad that for your sake, he’s now languishing behind bars.

By Lance Landall

The Enemy Within

Foolish man! Can’t you see what you have done? — all thanks to betrayal, lack of loyalty,
In other words, that foolish affair, a plague on many a wife and family.
How selfish, for now there’s a wife with a broken heart, crying, hurting, even depressed,
And if others hadn’t spoken, nor she confronted you, you wouldn’t have confessed.

And what about those innocent children too? My, some father you’ve turned out to be,
Given a man is supposed to be the protector of his wife and family.
But not you — oh no — you traded them all for a fling, sought another sexually,
And did so, despite all your needs being taken care of more than adequately.

You home wrecker! You martial saboteur! — imagine if your wife betrayed you,
Boy, I bet you’d soon squeal, call her trash, rant and rave, make her want to pay, undoubtedly.
Well, she’s showing you the door, and what’s more, you did it when she badly needed you,
Killing her faith and trust in you, and any faith and trust that your children had too.

Yes, you’ve stripped her of happiness, scarred your kids, stomped all over their security,
And you think you’re a man — well, that you may be — but one lacking in maturity.
You’ve done more damage than you can imagine, but what goes around, comes around,
So, I’d change my ways if I were you, lest your new partner in someone’s bed be found.

By Lance Landall

That Bad Boy Attraction

Yes, it’s known that many women are attracted to renegade men, and hence that proverbial question, “Why?”
Which I do not think is all that hard to answer, and hence my attempt here to hopefully such demystify.
And the reason for such is, that I believe there’s a broader picture which these women are simply reflecting,
And upon whom, (in so many tragic cases), these renegade men much misery are wrongly inflicting.

At the end of the day, humanity seems to have a strong fascination with anything that mystifies,
And in many cases such has become an obsession, one that this whole scene amplifies and electrifies.
For such is oft played up via the likes of movies, and via copycats who the bad boy image think is cool,
Yes, that dark side, over which the immature and wayward, and those sadly deluded women, seemingly drool.

The truth is, that as far as these renegade men, alias bad boys go, there’s really little to mystify,
And which their participation in a number of sessions with a psychologist would duly clarify.
For they’ve either been damaged emotionally somehow, (sadly so), or are just plain rebellious and lawless,
The latter just being the territory of fools, who once again, only the wayward and immature impress.

I guess there’s a dark side to us all, a certain rebelliousness, lawlessness, given that we’re all prone to doing wrong,
And why we smile at certain behaviour, even might do such ourselves, until some sad consequence comes along.
Yes, such a condition is hardly flattering, and in many cases, even aided by issues too, sadly,
And then there’s that curiosity — you know — Wet Paint, Don’t Touch — and we do — behaving like there’s some mystery.

But there’s not, for the paint is wet, and renegade men simply messed up or wayward, and why trouble these women get.

Yes, there's no mystery — and oh, how we find it easier to do wrong rather than right, and wrong even like,
And oft aren’t content to leave things alone, or aren’t content full stop, hence that oft fatal curiosity — holed dyke,
For in time, some dam can burst via a hole we’ve created, one like those women create, who opt for renegade men,
Who really aren’t a mystery at all, but who often act mysterious, and hence that, “Here we go again.”

That being, another unhappy marriage or roughing up, and why women who seek such men are soon seen to trip,
For bad guys don’t know how to really treat a woman, and marriage wise, certainly don’t know how to steer the ship.
At the end of the day, it takes guts to do what’s better and right — yes, an inner strength, compass, willing mind and heart,
All of which is why mysteries oft aren’t so, and why renegade men are best left alone, and just not that smart.

Yes, there are renegade women too, and given like attracts like, it’s not surprising that such men they pursue,
And then there’re those women whose motherly instincts get in the way of sense, for they too, such an affair oft rue.
But you know, not just renegades have appeal, but good men too — thus, it has more to do with that so-called mystery,
And that foolish soft spot for wrong doing within us all, which can lead to our own undoing, inevitably.

By Lance Landall

Nice Girl, Bad Girl

It intrigues me how so many women want to shed the nice girl image for the bad,
Having been seduced by the decadent desires of those who want women far less clad.
Desires that strip a woman of dignity, turning her into an object of lust,
And that in time, after having just used and abused her, leaves her behind in the dust.

Yes, desires that see her less respected, a means to an end — a selfish, heartless one,
For those who benefit don’t have her best interests at heart, nor care, when all’s said and done.
Yet, seldom do such women realise this, enjoying the illusion, the con, the lie,
But such fame is hollow and fleeting, and thus with age, soon mocked, failing to satisfy.

And via such shallowness, they foolishly make their own kind the subject of derision,
Providing leering men with more derogatory behind the scenes ammunition,
For using one’s body in such a way hardly shows much intellect, nor commonsense,
Given men are simply satisfying their obsession with sex at a woman’s expense.

Though women were indeed designed to be physically appreciated by men,
They weren’t meant to be objects of lust, nor degraded via someone’s camera or pen.
But rather, valued for who they are, protected, supported, duly loved and cared for,
And hence why those men in their life who see it otherwise, should quickly be shown the door.

By Lance Landall

Right Way, Wrong Way

There was a time when women knew how to wrap a man around their little finger by using their femininity,
And yet still retain their dignity, unlike today, where they are far too quick to fall back on their sexuality.
And hence how they sell themselves short, for rather than using their charm, they take the easy way out, and just use their body,
And then wonder why men start expecting certain favours, view them as an object, even treat them objectionably.

To be fair, and factual, not every woman takes the easy way out, thus bowing to the crassness of the day,
But instead, appeals to the higher rather than the lower, and thereby, avoids bringing the unsavoury her way.
And as well as this, also sends a message that a man can respect and admire, unlike the other, which just demeans,
For one appeals to his masculinity, and the other, more to carnality — what’s seen in Playboy magazines.

And hence that sexy clothing, and those sexy ways, that do little to raise a man’s thoughts above his crutch, and his own desires,
And that rather than drawing him to a woman’s natural beauty and character, just ignites little lustful fires.
And that also tends to tar all women with the same brush, for one is often left thinking that it’s the majority,
Given that even grandmas are into those sexy calendar shots now, having succumbed to the sex mentality.

Yes, it seems as if the world has just discovered sex, and still in its infancy, is showing its immaturity,
And unable to control its new found desires, it’s like a child in a shop full of sweets just gorging itself silly.
And in the process, unleashing a tsunami that’s threatening the last bastions of decency and morality,
And all because, (to a large degree), women are now exchanging femininity for blatant sexuality. 

By Lance Landall

Why Women Get Used

Dear sexually dressed woman: With men being males, and with you being dressed like that, they’re being directed to your body.
“So? What if they are?” you cry — but don’t you see? They’re not being attracted to you, and therein lies the problem, sadly.
For you’re just creating a sexual interest, and not a personal interest, (and self-defeatingly),
Given that you are simply stirring a man's self interest-cum-lust, and-cum-you're now an object, effectively.

And what does one do with objects? Use them, even abuse them, and more so if there’s no attachment emotionally,
Which in this case there hardly is, for men can separate the sexual from such, and do, oft very callously.
Yes, such is one difference between men and women, and why men oft indifferently take what they want and leave,
And why many women who’re looking for far more than a one night stand, [brothel emulation], are soon seen to grieve.

A man can’t truly fulfil a woman’s desires unless he loves her — in other words, gives himself to her completely,
That is, not just physically but emotionally — we're talking marriage, he committing himself permanently.
For where women are concerned, the physical and emotional go together — plus, women want security,
And need such, for children can be one outcome, and not just she suffer, but that unintended child, tragically.

Yes, so many women get used, which they can aid via their dress, or via buying into the same male mentality,
That is, that one that seeks pleasure physically without being attached emotionally, (which leaves them feeling empty).
Yes, something that’s so easy for a man, and more so one who’s less than noble and moral, and who’s attracted by
That sexy and public state of undress that oft sees women used, for such directs a man’s compartmentalised eye.

Yes, if women knew the half of it, far more would hardly laugh at it.

By Lance Landall

You may also wish to read my article "Are Women Blameless?" which is found on my Bits 'n' Bobs page, (page two), the link button to that page being near the top of my poem list page. You may also be interested in reading the following poems: "The Problem With Sexy", "That Word Sexy", "Cover Up, Please", "Triggering", "Sexual Criminality" and "Descretion Please."

Can't Have It Both Ways

One night when I happened to be observing a variety show on the TV, two young men appeared,
And there on the stage, removed their shirts, thus baring their chests — and oh, how the women present hollered and cheered.
And I couldn’t help thinking to myself, “Are women getting as bad as men, fixating on the body,”
And thereby, effectively joining those same leering crowds seen in strip joints, where the air’s lustful, blue and bawdy.

At the end of the day, women can’t have it both ways — which, to be honest, appears to be the case to me,
That is, not wanting to be sought just for their body, yet fixating on bodies themselves, ironically,
Which simply fuels that body mentality that’s found in the male domain, for it suggests very strongly
That these days, women are happy to be seen as sex objects — well, many women anyway, seemingly.

Just as parents should lead by example, so should women too, if they want to be taken seriously,
For mixed signals ensure mixed results, and more often a total disregard, and hardly surprisingly.
Either a woman desires a man who is focussed on the person, or one who’s focussed on the body,
And depending on what she wants, as to how she’ll act and dress, I guess, and who she’ll attract, invariably.

Sure she may be lucky in love, but it’s better to be sure than lucky, hence her need to act prudently,
And just like a parent, act in a way that will bring about the best result, if she wants to be happy.
For one thing’s very clear, and that is, that those women who holler and cheer, not only make their desires clear,
But worsen a certain mentality, compound the lot of women, and future hurt are likely to share.

By Lance Landall

Many A Woman's Burden

Oh, that deep hurt that so many women bear, amidst raising their children — a burden that’s so cruel and unfair,
Their husband inflicting his selfish, (and even twisted), desires on her, whilst the children slumber unaware.
Or perhaps they’re not so unaware, hearing their poor mother’s stifled protests — yes, lust instead of love at work,
Their father forcing himself on their mother, wanting too much too often, and she, satisfying some weird quirk.

Perhaps her nerves are frayed, awaiting each return from work, his moods prone to swing, and possibly an arm as well,
And she, therefore living in fear, or feeling trapped, so mindful of the children, no one to turn to, or to tell.
Yes, each mistreated mother’s story striking a cord, and amidst it all, they protecting their offspring from such,
Be it via little reassurances, so fragile and even false, though they have no choice but to do that much.

Yes, good mothers, good women, who deserve much better, hurting, worried, and yet, still treating their husbands kindly,
That is, despite their husband’s selfishness, callousness, thoughtlessness and foolishness — yes, his acting so blindly.
And amidst their efforts to raise their children well, there’s that real concern that they may well turn out just like their dad,
For many sons who have become thoughtless, abusive husbands, (and even fathers), that same background have had.

And oh, there’s that length of time those mothers carried those wee ones in their womb, that discomfort minus his concern,
That is, their husband’s seeming indifference to such, and even selfish annoyance — oh, when will such men learn?
Yes, the lot of so many women, who amidst raising their wee ones, such coldness and suffering have to bear,
A burden that no husband or father should inflict on his wife or children, for such is so cruel and unfair.

By Lance Landall

Sexploitation

It’s clear that there’s no shortage of women who’re prepared to bow to sexploitation, and who thereby just hurt their own,
Be it via adds, porn, even dress — yes, the list goes on — and then, ironically so, they over the backlash groan.
And via their bowing to such, they also undermine the efforts of other women trying to stop such misuse,
A misuse that sees more and more women on the receiving end of lewd leers and remarks, and sexual abuse.

Yes, it’s hardly any wonder that women are seen more and more in terms of objects — objects of lust, let’s be clear,
And why all those foolish women who choose to bow to such sexploitation, a certain degree of the blame must share.
For after all, they don’t have to star in those movies or those adds, and nor in that soft or hardcore pornography,
All of which reduces them to the state of cattle, despite the denials of those who benefit financially.

If only those women could see through the eyes of males — honest males, that is — who would be prepared to answer truthfully:
That via such, they’re drawn to anything but that which places women on a pedestal and treats them respectfully.
Hence why were they able to have their way — oh, how they would play — for the sexual would be the first thing on their mind,
For after all, that’s the signal that’s being sent, and picked up, and why in their mind many men press replay and rewind.

Yes, sexploitation comes in many forms, all of which just degrades women, and that mocks at men who such folly view,
And who even may join the ranks of those women bowing to such, given that many men pursue such folly too.
And hence why it’s time that we all woke up to such sexploitation, and joined in a collective shout, and quickly so,
For the greedy and cruel sexploitation of any man, woman or child, should have been brought to a halt long ago.

By Lance Landall

Red Light Shame

It’s such a tragedy, and it’s hardly to the credit of men, that so many women turn to prostitution;
Some women quite happily, it appears — others pressured or forced, and others thinking that such is a solution.
Yes, there’s a number of reasons, desperation being amongst them, given the plight that some women find themselves in, but,
What a crime that some are abducted and forced into such by greedy evil men who profit via lust, vice, and smut.

But the latter aside, what a shame that many women are prepared to degrade themselves so — that being, willingly,
Allowing men to just treat them like some pleasure dispensing machine, an object to be used indifferently.
And as the money changes hands, so does their ravaged body too, and who knows what else is exchanged in the process,
As certain undesirables with minds as grubby as a trash can, lustfully hurry to some red light address.

Yes, what a shame that many women sell themselves so short, their value reduced to a few dollars, effectively,
Their body just used like some work bench, the user satisfying some warped creative urge — well, most, undoubtedly.
And all the while, making sure he gets his money’s worth, fingering and probing both disgustingly and lustfully,
Well aware that others before him have also mauled and pillaged — for that’s what she’s there for, he reasons callously.

Prostitution is nothing but a pit, one that’s jumped into and then crawled out of, both drenched in its debasing mire,
For nothing drags men and women lower; one seeking what they shouldn’t acquire, the other yielding to such desire.
And so often behind it all, all those pimps, those slave drivers, those who profit from a woman’s loss and degradation,
Oft hiding behind that self-seeking, flawed and injurious pitch that such is just a kindly accommodation.

By Lance Landall

Where Opposites Do Attract

I don’t know about you, but I like a woman to talk, act, and dress like a woman, and visa versa too,
That is, I like a man to talk, act, and dress like a man, for either acting otherwise is to act askew.
For after all, men are hardly born feminine, nor women masculine, but rather, as they were meant to be,
And hence why men are attracted to women, and women to men, both being very different sexually.

And where they’re not attracted to each other, but to those of their own sex, it’s because something has gone amiss,
And why an abhorrence of such is quite understandable, and therefore, shouldn’t be put down to prejudice.
After all, how can two males mate, or two women? — no, we know they can’t, and why despite any legislation
Such will never truly be accepted by the majority of folk, for it’s clearly an aberration.

However, having said that, and despite our abhorrence of such, we should never treat such folk differently,
And by that I mean, treat them any less than we would anyone else, for that would be acting inhumanely.
In other words, by all means denounce same-sex sexual acts, but don’t go mistreating the individual,
For at the end of the day, it appears that many are born that way, and such feelings cannot exactly quell.

When I say that many are “born that way,” I’m simply meaning in the sense that something has somehow gone astray.

Well, returning to where I began, (given such is more a digression), men and women are clearly opposites,
And why men acting effeminate, and women acting masculine, neither natural appeal and nature fits.
And why even dressing up in the clothes of the opposite sex, just for fun, is something that is hardly right too,
For such conveys something that is unwholesome or unsavoury, and sanctions what one is better not to do.

There’re also those times, (and perhaps many), where a man is mistaken for a woman, and visa versa too,
That is, where a woman is mistaken for a man, which, to be quite honest, is hardly a flattering view.
And why every man and woman should only wear that which enhances their gender, and as much as possible,
For there’s nothing worse than that question, “Was that a woman or a man?” given it’s not always easy to tell.

And, let me add here, a woman doesn’t have to dress sexy to enhance her gender, but simply femininely,
Otherwise, all she’ll do is just turn herself into an object of lust, become the butt of crudity.
For nothing gets most men talking more unseemly than the teasingly sexual — yes, hardly in a woman’s best,
Given that rather than being drawn to her, men are drawn to her body, of which so many one night stands attest.

At the end of the day, it’s simply all about men being men, and women being women — acting naturally,
That is, the way they were clearly designed to, so apparent in their thinking, their ways, and their anatomy.
After all, this is where opposites do attract, this is where opposites were meant to attract, and naturally so,
For men and women were designed to compliment each other, which surely anyone with a lick of sense would know.

By Lance Landall

Self-inflicted Injury

In regard to the lot of women, one only has to note the likes of those beauty contests that we see,
Where women are inspected like cattle — and let’s be honest, they accepting such more due to vanity.
Yes, loving the attention, their bodies clearly the focal point, regardless of what some publicly say,
They being, those who promote such, even the women themselves, and thereby fooling themselves, at the end of the day.

And then there're those Playboy bunnies, (as they’re called), toys in the hands of men, though one man in particular, who,
Has made a fortune out of using them — yes, they too, paraded like cattle, pawns in a sexual zoo.
And once again, their bodies the focal point, over which men lustfully drool, their eyes raping silently;
In other words, they fantasizing, a woman’s best far from their mind, they inflamed, fixated sexually.

Given that men are made the way they are, what can women expect, or is it that they somehow just can’t see
That what they’re doing is counterproductive, for such doesn’t stir a man’s heart, but rather, his loins, sadly.
And there, within the confines of his fired up loins, those women become objects of self-gratification;
That is, a means to a selfish end, which at the end of the day, is the bedfellow of sexploitation.

Hence how women shoot themselves in the foot, for many seem only too happy to disrobe and their flesh bare,
Or to in various degrees reveal what’s picked up by a man’s sexual radar — hence his carnal stare.
Thus, the less a woman bares, the more a man’s focus is raised, and the better off she is, for one thing’s clear,
And that is: As long as women somehow keep on baring their bodies, the less about women men will care.

Yes, self-inflicted injury, I say.

By Lance Landall

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