There once lived a girl
With a head full of curls,
Once nice, naive, and neat,
Turned out to be a compulsive cheat.
In love she bravely fell,
But never cured was her curse from hell.
Five marriages ended in divorce,
Still she felt no remorse.
Proudly she marched on,
With her whiskey and her bong.
On the eve of her 40th year,
Singlehood she could no longer bear.
A ring and dress she bought,
Along with flowers and silicone breasts,
To commence a marriage with herself.
Men and women she still screwed,
But all the same her marriage thrived.
Hence the moral of this glorious tale is that the one and only soul mate a woman will ever find is herself because, let’s be honest, no previously discovered living organism on planet earth can tame any member of the magnificent female species.
This is why you don’t write poems at 5.59 am in the morning.