Sir Vanity

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Seek out all the
pretty faces,
Hunt them down
One by one.
If the beauty there
Lifts not your pulse,
Then hunt down the
perfect bodies…
Surely famished,
Bones threatening flesh,
Volume only where it counts
for men like you.
Deny your lust,
I care no longer,
I’ve seen through your
pitiful cloaks,
Until, alas, it made me ill;
Your insult to my mind.
I turn my back to you sir,
No second cheek for you sir,
Rebirth yourself
as often as you see fit,
Caught again by you;
I think not, sir.

Y.E.S 2013

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