It was a tiny little tag <br />and no one really would brag <br />about its size or form or shape, <br />it hid behind a light pink drape <br />and there it waited for the day <br />when they would innocently play <br />and then, in logical progression <br />unite and rupture, by compression <br />the symbol of sweet innocence <br />now relegated to past tense. <br />I ask you, folks, what can it be? <br />It isn't something one can see, <br />yet girls and boys and full-grown men <br />will talk about it, now and then.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-real-puzzle/
