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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Comedy · #1504428
A humorous poem to man's "best friend"
I wake up in the morning only to discover
that you have risen first, standing tall under the covers.
Erectly pink and proud, I can see you clear.
Unlike your female counterpart, no mirror needed here!

We travel to the bathroom. (Remember, raise the seat!)
With yellow ink, we inscribe ancient runes until complete
and then, the mystic ritual done, I let you slip away
knowing that the omens portend a stand up day.

You're always vigilant, like a compass points the way,
you remind me of your purpose as I pass through each day.
The subtle sights around you – the fullness of a breast,
a skirt too short, a pretty face, all rouse you from your rest.

You've gained a reputation; you're at the pinnacle of fame
when everybody knows you by a favorite name:
Hanging Johnny, Moisture Missile, a plug looking for a socket,
Tallywhacker, Old Blind Bob, and of course, the Pocket Rocket.

You are a giving sort, both of life and pleasure,
and so when I hold you, I recognize the treasure.
"Family Jewels" you've been called – except when you are seedin'
then you're frowned upon and called the Serpent of Eden.

Tonight I'll set you free, proudly without censure.
And if my partner's willing this will be a "joint" venture.
I noticed lately she's reluctant but for you I'll take a stand
and demand your rights (or take matters in my hand).

Another day has passed. It's time once more for bed.
I know both awake or sleeping, you'll put thoughts in my head.
Despite a disappointing evening, on one thing you can bet:
There's always hope tomorrow and tonight, dreams that are wet!

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