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It is better to have a relationship with someone who cheats on you than with someone who does not flush the toilet.

quote by Uma Thurman
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Heart Cheats With Me

My heart cheats with me,
I give ten reasons to hate her,
Heart gives ten reasons to love her.

My heart cheats with me,
I say she make me cry,
Heart say she give me smile more than cry.

My heart cheats with me,
I say she never wipe my tears,
Heart says I never show my tears.

My heart cheats with me,
I say she breaks her promises,
Heart says why I ask her to make promises.

My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she leaves me alone in this world,
Heart asks why I feel alone in this world.

My heart cheats with me,
I say she never care for me,
Heart says I never care for her care.

My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she shown me dream,
Heart asks why I believe on dream.

My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she gave fake love to me,
Heart asks why I gave true love to her.

My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she betrayed with me
Heart ask why I trust on her.

My heart cheats with me,
I ask why I can’t hate her
Heart asks why I was loved her.

My heart cheats with me,
Heart asks, why I want to hate her whenever one day I was loved her?
I say I want to hate her because you remember her and make me cry.

My heart cheats with me,
My heart cheats with me.

poem by Priyo Hazra
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Plexiglass Toilet

Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
A boy of 5 stands close to the toilet
Holds the lid up with one hand
Won't let go the lid for fear that
On his banana it will land
Don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
Boy goes up he eats the enchilada
With the sauce that burns the heart
Family comes to visit family
Momma says don't belch and fart
Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
Everybody Sing!
Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah

song performed by Styx, music by John Curulewski
Added by Lucian Velea
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It’s No Fun Going To The Toilet

it’s no fun, dearest friends,
going to the toilet
with your entrails full
and at zero hour
and rushing to the toilet
and finding every cubicle shut in your face
and you run to the next
and there are grunting pigs
behind closed doors
and you are truly full,
and you know you are in big trouble
and there is not even a discreet bush corner
in the god-forsaken damned city;
and you are walking up and down outside the doors
like an irate Principal at a school assembly;
it’s really no fun
putting yourself through such agony
to put yourself on such public display
going to public toilets
when you could have cleared all
and achieved dignity
with proper timing
and good though boring habits

it’s no fun, really -
dearest friends,
hastening to the toilet
when your pipe is nearly at bursting point
and you rush in to the toilet
and though lucky enough
to find an enclosure
it’s really no fun, is it? -
all that hurry and urgency
at near bursting point
as you pow-wow before the toilet bowl
and your buckle is stubborn
and you plead to your private self:
O no, no…don’t burst…not yet…
and your damned zip gets stuck just then
and you continue your war dance
and you plead to your intimate self:
O no, no…don’t burst…not yet…not yet, please;
please don’t do this to me-self –
and just then the zip comes asunder
and you pull it down like thunder
and oh, what a relief, no doubt –
but it certainly was no fun
going there to the toilet at near-breaking point;

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Gardener XI: Come As You Are

Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If your braided hair has loosened if
the parting of your hair be not straight,
if the ribbons of your bodice be not
fastened, do not mind.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
If the raddle come from your feet
because of the dew, of the rings of bells
upon your feet slacken, if pearls drop
out of your chain, do not mind.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
Flocks of cranes fly up from the
further river-bank and fitful gusts of
wind rush over the heath.
The anxious cattle run to their stalls
in the village.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
In vain you light your toilet lamp
--it flickers and goes out in the
wind.
Who can know that your eyelids
have not been touched with lamp-
black? For your eyes are darker
than rain-clouds.
In vain you light your toilet lamp--
it goes out.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If the wreath is not woven, who
cares; if the wrist-chain had not been
linked, let it be.
The sky is overcast with clouds--it
is late.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Strange Relationship

I guess u know me well, I dont like winter
But I seem 2 get a kick out of doing u cold
Oh, what the hell, u always surrender
Whats this strange relationship that we hold on 2?
Baby I just cant stand 2 see u happy
More than that I hate 2 see u sad
Honey if u left me I just might do something rash
Whats this strange relationship? (ship, ship, ship)
I came and took your love, I took your body
I took all the self respect u ever had
I took u 4 a ride and baby Im sorry
The more u love me sugar, the more it makes me mad
Baby I just cant stand 2 see u happy
More than that I hate 2 see u sad
Honey if u left me I just might do something rash
Whats this strange relationship? (ship, ship, ship)
Isnt it a shame this aint a movie
Then u could rewrite my every line
Ill take all the blame, yo baby Im sorry
But I didnt like the way u where, so I had 2 make u mine
Baby I just cant stand 2 see u happy
More than that I hate 2 see u sad
Honey if u left me I just might do something rash
Whats this strange relationship? (ship, ship, ship)
Mmmmm, my strange relationship
Cant live with u, cant live without u
Thats all about..
Do u know? (strange relationship)
I think u and I got a (strange relationship)
Whats this strange relationship?
Yeah, yeah [repeated to fade]

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Old Fashion Way

One woman, one man relationship, thats
the old fashion way, one woman, one man
relationship, thats the old fashion way,
and together they stay,
until their dying day-
One woman, one man relationship, thats
good and strong, one woman, one man
relationship thats good and strong,
thats the kind of relationship
that will last very long-
One woman, one man relationship,
thats what romance is all about,
One woman, one man relationship,
thats what romance is all about, the
old fashion way never goes
out of style,
like a candle that never burns out!

poem by Dorsey Baker
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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.

Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,

To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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The Unknown Eros. Book I.

I
Saint Valentine’s Day

Well dost thou, Love, thy solemn Feast to hold
In vestal February;
Not rather choosing out some rosy day
From the rich coronet of the coming May,
When all things meet to marry!

O, quick, prævernal Power
That signall'st punctual through the sleepy mould
The Snowdrop's time to flower,
Fair as the rash oath of virginity
Which is first-love's first cry;
O, Baby Spring,
That flutter'st sudden 'neath the breast of Earth
A month before the birth;
Whence is the peaceful poignancy,
The joy contrite,
Sadder than sorrow, sweeter than delight,
That burthens now the breath of everything,
Though each one sighs as if to each alone
The cherish'd pang were known?
At dusk of dawn, on his dark spray apart,
With it the Blackbird breaks the young Day's heart;
In evening's hush
About it talks the heavenly-minded Thrush;
The hill with like remorse
Smiles to the Sun's smile in his westering course;
The fisher's drooping skiff
In yonder sheltering bay;
The choughs that call about the shining cliff;
The children, noisy in the setting ray;
Own the sweet season, each thing as it may;
Thoughts of strange kindness and forgotten peace
In me increase;
And tears arise
Within my happy, happy Mistress' eyes,
And, lo, her lips, averted from my kiss,
Ask from Love's bounty, ah, much more than bliss!

Is't the sequester'd and exceeding sweet
Of dear Desire electing his defeat?
Is't the waked Earth now to yon purpling cope
Uttering first-love's first cry,
Vainly renouncing, with a Seraph's sigh,
Love's natural hope?
Fair-meaning Earth, foredoom'd to perjury!
Behold, all amorous May,
With roses heap'd upon her laughing brows,

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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Lily Licked the Toilet

Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the floor.
You can bet I'll never
Kiss Lily anymore!
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the sink.
She's full of germs and worms,
At least that's what I think.
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the tub.
It's safe to say her tongue
Could use a real good scrub!
She was the cutest pooch! (To Smooch)
Why'd she have to spoil it?
Nothing's been the same since…
Lily licked the toilet!

poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Short; Silly: Ode To A Commode...Or....A Poem About Toilets

modern 'toilets' are large flushable porcelain bowls
which catch waste from both your and my exit holes.
i'm used to white ones with large flush-water tank.
a hidden pipe carries off stuff that often does smell rank.

some in japan were quite different……with no way to sit!
i'm glad i found 'my style' when t'was time to shit.
and if from toilet-paper usage you're leaning,
some toilets have the choice of an in-bowl shower, for cleaning.

toilet seats are sometimes colored, or cushioned, or even heated;
for me, more important (at times) is JUST to be SEATED!

toilets have changed since they were just holes in the ground.
i hope, when i 'need' a toilet, one's always around!

(4-4-2010)

poem by Bri Edwards
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You Make Me Wanna

this is what you do
this is what you do
this is what you do

(Chorus)
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new relationship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new realtionship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me

(Verse1)

Before anything began between us
You were like my bestfriend
The one I used to run to when me and my
girl was having problems (thats right)
You used to say it would be okay
suggest little nice things I should do
And when I come home at night and lay my head down
all I seem to think about is you
And how you make me wanna

(Chorus)
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new relationship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new realtionship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me

(Verse2)

Now what's bad
Is your're the one that hooked us up
Knowing it should've been you
What's sad is I love her but I'm falling for you
What should I do
Should I

[...] Read more

song performed by Usher from My Way
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Make Me Wanna (Extended Version)

this is what you do
this is what you do
this is what you do

(Chorus)
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new relationship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new realtionship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me

(Verse1)

Before anything began between us
You were like my bestfriend
The one I used to run to when me and my
girl was having problems (thats right)
You used to say it would be okay
suggest little nice things I should do
And when I come home at night and lay my head down
all I seem to think about is you
And how you make me wanna

(Chorus)
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new relationship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me wanna leave the one i'm with
start a new realtionship with you
this is what you do
think about her and the things that come along with
you make me
you make me

(Verse2)

Now what's bad
Is your're the one that hooked us up
Knowing it should've been you
What's sad is I love her but I'm falling for you
What should I do
Should I

[...] Read more

song performed by Usher from My Way
Added by Lucian Velea
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Read Me Now

read me now
read me 500 years after i am not around
after that flush me down the toilet
that is if you are still using flush toilet

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Tick

I feel a tick in my head and hes sucking on my head
In the morning Ill be dead if he doesnt leave my head
Why cant he go away why does he have to stay
Maybe he wanna play but I can only say
That Ill get you, Ill burn you, Ill crush you, Ill flush you (down, down)
The toilet where youll spiral (around-round)
Awww, tick -- mmm tick tick tick -- brr tick
I tried to get rid of my plague but I left some of his leg
And he grew back pretty quick so I stabbed the little prick
But now I cut my head -- in the morning Ill be dead
But even after still hell find someone to kill
And hell get you, Ill burn you, Ill crush you, Ill flush you (down, down)
The toilet where youll spiral (around-round)
Awww, tick -- mmm tick tick tick -- brr tick
Awww, tick -- mmm tick tick tick -- brr tick
Awww, tick -- mmm tick tick tick -- brr tick

song performed by Ween
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Sixth

I
"There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, -- taken at the flood," -- you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
The moment, till too late to come again.
But no doubt every thing is for the best --
Of which the surest sign is in the end:
When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.

II
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads -- God knows where:
Those navigators must be able seamen
Whose charts lay down its current to a hair;
Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen
With its strange whirls and eddies can compare:
Men with their heads reflect on this and that --
But women with their hearts on heaven knows what!

III
And yet a headlong, headstrong, downright she,
Young, beautiful, and daring -- who would risk
A throne, the world, the universe, to be
Beloved in her own way, and rather whisk
The stars from out the sky, than not be free
As are the billows when the breeze is brisk --
Though such a she's a devil (if that there be one),
Yet she would make full many a Manichean.

IV
Thrones, worlds, et cetera, are so oft upset
By commonest ambition, that when passion
O'erthrows the same, we readily forget,
Or at the least forgive, the loving rash one.
If Antony be well remember'd yet,
'T is not his conquests keep his name in fashion,
But Actium, lost for Cleopatra's eyes,
Outbalances all Caesar's victories.

V
He died at fifty for a queen of forty;
I wish their years had been fifteen and twenty,
For then wealth, kingdoms, worlds are but a sport -- I
Remember when, though I had no great plenty
Of worlds to lose, yet still, to pay my court, I
Gave what I had -- a heart: as the world went, I
Gave what was worth a world; for worlds could never
Restore me those pure feelings, gone forever.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Sixth

'There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
The moment, till too late to come again.
But no doubt every thing is for the best-
Of which the surest sign is in the end:
When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads- God knows where:
Those navigators must be able seamen
Whose charts lay down its current to a hair;
Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen
With its strange whirls and eddies can compare:
Men with their heads reflect on this and that-
But women with their hearts on heaven knows what!

And yet a headlong, headstrong, downright she,
Young, beautiful, and daring- who would risk
A throne, the world, the universe, to be
Beloved in her own way, and rather whisk
The stars from out the sky, than not be free
As are the billows when the breeze is brisk-
Though such a she 's a devil (if that there be one),
Yet she would make full many a Manichean.

Thrones, worlds, et cetera, are so oft upset
By commonest ambition, that when passion
O'erthrows the same, we readily forget,
Or at the least forgive, the loving rash one.
If Antony be well remember'd yet,
'T is not his conquests keep his name in fashion,
But Actium, lost for Cleopatra's eyes,
Outbalances all Caesar's victories.

He died at fifty for a queen of forty;
I wish their years had been fifteen and twenty,
For then wealth, kingdoms, worlds are but a sport- I
Remember when, though I had no great plenty
Of worlds to lose, yet still, to pay my court, I
Gave what I had- a heart: as the world went, I
Gave what was worth a world; for worlds could never
Restore me those pure feelings, gone forever.

'T was the boy's 'mite,' and, like the 'widow's,' may
Perhaps be weigh'd hereafter, if not now;
But whether such things do or do not weigh,
All who have loved, or love, will still allow
Life has nought like it. God is love, they say,

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When The Economy Started To Slip

When the economy started to slip,
Who was not aware of it?
And...
Who pocketed the funds,
Away from everyone?

When the economy started to slip,
Who was not aware of it?
And...
Who pocketed the funds,
Away from everyone?

Who didn't know,
Who fed at the feast.
And who didn't know,
Who fed their greed.
And who didn't know,
Who were the cheats.
And who didn't know,
Thieves! ?

Who didn't know,
Who fed at the feast.
And who didn't know,
Who fed their greed.
And who didn't know,
Who were the cheats.
And who didn't know,
Thieves! ?

When the economy started to slip,
Who was not aware of it?
And...
Who pocketed the funds,
Away from everyone?

Who didn't know,
Who fed at the feast.
And who didn't know,
Who fed their greed.
And who didn't know,
Who were the cheats.
And who didn't know,
Thieves! ?

When the economy started to slip...
Who didn't know,
Who fed at the feast.
And who didn't know,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Satyre Against Mankind

Were I - who to my cost already am
One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man -
A spirit free to choose for my own share
What sort of flesh and blood I pleased to wear,
I'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear,
Or anything but that vain animal,
Who is so proud of being rational.

His senses are too gross; and he'll contrive
A sixth, to contradict the other five;
And before certain instinct will prefer
Reason, which fifty times for one does err.
Reason, an ignis fatuus of the mind,
Which leaving light of nature, sense, behind,
Pathless and dangerous wand'ring ways it takes,
Through Error's fenny bogs and thorny brakes;
Whilst the misguided follower climbs with pain
Mountains of whimseys, heaped in his own brain;
Stumbling from thought to thought, falls headlong down,
Into Doubt's boundless sea where, like to drown,
Books bear him up awhile, and make him try
To swim with bladders of Philosophy;
In hopes still to o'ertake the escaping light;
The vapour dances, in his dancing sight,
Till spent, it leaves him to eternal night.
Then old age and experience, hand in hand,
Lead him to death, make him to understand,
After a search so painful, and so long,
That all his life he has been in the wrong:

Huddled In dirt the reasoning engine lies,
Who was so proud, so witty, and so wise.
Pride drew him in, as cheats their bubbles catch,
And made him venture; to be made a wretch.
His wisdom did has happiness destroy,
Aiming to know that world he should enjoy;
And Wit was his vain, frivolous pretence
Of pleasing others, at his own expense.
For wits are treated just like common whores,
First they're enjoyed, and then kicked out of doors;
The pleasure past, a threatening doubt remains,
That frights th' enjoyer with succeeding pains:
Women and men of wit are dangerous tools,
And ever fatal to admiring fools.
Pleasure allures, and when the fops escape,
'Tis not that they're beloved, but fortunate,
And therefore what they fear, at heart they hate:

But now, methinks some formal band and beard
Takes me to task; come on sir, I'm prepared:

[...] Read more

poem by Lord John Wilmot
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Satyr

Were I (who to my cost already am
One of those strange prodigious Creatures Man)
A Spirit free, to choose for my own share,
What Case of Flesh, and Blood, I pleas'd to weare,
I'd be a Dog, a Monkey, or a Bear,
Or any thing but that vain Animal,
Who is so proud of being rational.
The senses are too gross, and he'll contrive
A Sixth, to contradict the other Five;
And before certain instinct, will preferr
Reason, which Fifty times for one does err.
Reason, an Ignis fatuus, in the Mind,
Which leaving light of Nature, sense behind;
Pathless and dang'rous wandring ways it takes,
Through errors Fenny -- Boggs, and Thorny Brakes;
Whilst the misguided follower, climbs with pain,
Mountains of Whimseys, heap'd in his own Brain:
Stumbling from thought to thought, falls headlong down,
Into doubts boundless Sea, where like to drown,
Books bear him up awhile, and make him try,
To swim with Bladders of Philosophy;
In hopes still t'oretake th'escaping light,
The Vapour dances in his dazling sight,
Till spent, it leaves him to eternal Night.
Then Old Age, and experience, hand in hand,
Lead him to death, and make him understand,
After a search so painful, and so long,
That all his Life he has been in the wrong;
Hudled in dirt, the reas'ning Engine lyes,
Who was so proud, so witty, and so wise.
Pride drew him in, as Cheats, their Bubbles catch,
And makes him venture, to be made a Wretch.
His wisdom did his happiness destroy,
Aiming to know that World he shou'd enjoy;
And Wit, was his vain frivolous pretence,
Of pleasing others, at his own expence.
For Witts are treated just like common Whores,
First they're enjoy'd, and then kickt out of Doores:
The pleasure past, a threatning doubt remains,
That frights th'enjoyer, with succeeding pains:
Women and Men of Wit, are dang'rous Tools,
And ever fatal to admiring Fools.
Pleasure allures, and when the Fopps escape,
'Tis not that they're belov'd, but fortunate,
And therefore what they fear, at heart they hate.
But now methinks some formal Band, and Beard,
Takes me to task, come on Sir I'm prepar'd.
Then by your favour, any thing that's writ
Against this gibeing jingling knack call'd Wit,
Likes me abundantly, but you take care,

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poem by Lord John Wilmot
Added by Poetry Lover
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