I watched from the stairs of my home <br />As she brushed her hair with a glassy comb. <br />It's Saturday night and the speakers are singing, <br />The cars are rushing by, urged by the men they are bringing. <br />It's Saturday night and the booze is plenty, <br />Before her date tonight, four bottles are already empty. <br />Leering lecherously, he pulled her close, <br />He showed her the pills and she took one dose <br />He snorted loudly and licked her face, <br />He called her sexy and they went to her place. <br />He awoke a little before quarter to four, <br />Hurriedly and harriedly drove off in his Crosstour. <br />It's Sunday morning and Episcopal bells are ringing, <br />She's in the front row, 'Hail Hosanna' singing. <br />'Be as sister Grace' was the petit priest's reprise, <br />'As chaste, hardworking and not wanting a prize.' <br />She smiled and waved, <br />'Hallelujah, be like her, be saved'. <br />I shall never understand women said I once, my ire astir, <br />They know not what they want, their reasoning and conscience beyond repair. <br />That was after my third love went overboard... <br />Now I think I know she just wants to be adored.<br /><br />Oke Christopher<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-wants-to-be-adored/
