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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1463827-Im-wild-not-yet-seventeen
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Cultural · #1463827
a strange little ditty with common rhyme throughout...
A Bitter Scene…

I’m wild, not yet seventeen.
My name, ‘till now, was Josephine,
But here and now I’ll be Christine,
For she, like me, is quite obscene.

I like to go to rank canteens,
I love those nasty, filthy scenes.
I know of one that serves sardines
Still whole, on rye, with Lima beans…

The men who come - I hope are clean,
‘Cause most of them, with me - convene.
They love the fact that I’m a teen -
I’m short and fat, but that’s just keen.

I’m hooked, just like on nicotine -
I find myself a serpentine.
I love them all…the boy eighteen,
The old gray man, the staunch marine.

But then 'he' came, a wolverine -
It was a terrorizing scene.
For what he did was unforeseen,
He dragged me to the old ravine.

His face—it had an awful glean,
He showed me that he could demean.
I’ve never felt so damn unclean -
The thought of him still turns me green…

I do not feel the age sixteen,
My life no longer is serene.
This lesson’s hard, a bitter scene—
My body, now, I quarantine…

© Copyright 2008 Robin:TheRhymeMaven (tikkunolam at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1463827-Im-wild-not-yet-seventeen