To The Boy Child

dear boy,

tattooed over the heart of every girl

are words that read thus:

"handle with care"

don't bore holes into her skin

with your penile eyes:

she's more to admire

than trips to cloud nine

don't flip your tongue to coin sweet words

just to get her laid and run away:

she's more to you

than a pleasure tool

don't measure her worth by her curves,

nor ever place second place, her worth:

she's more, dear boy,

than a possession

does this sound strange,

dear burdened boy?

you shoulda known:

but now you do, 

be human again,

be not a stone