The Black Hole is waiting for us all

They say, “No light escapes.”

I send my manuscripts into it, and laugh.

Does laughter escape?

Probably not.

The tricks, are not in my black bag.

Women, know it.

I don’t know how they know it, but they do

or they only seem to.

If that’s true,

they’re right

100 percent of the time.

Women doubt me

I get rejected, constantly.

“But I’m such a great guy! Look at my resume!”

If anything, I take delight, in my personal philosophy

I don’t have the secret ingredient

but what do they have?

Let’s not go into that…

Even though, they all know

I want to.

What a wonderful life it is.

Those who have it, don’t give it away,

and what they do have, is in that black bag of theirs—

the stuff, they don’t spread-around, evenly.

They keep it hidden

They hold it, greedily

and everybody wants it, even though

they don’t know

what it is.

It’s in demand,

without us understanding

the nature of its supply.

Perhaps, it’s a sophisticated social game

where nobody knows the rules, except

the one who wins.

It’s the popular kids.

Who knows why?

It’s that woman who has it all

She knows it, and she flaunts it

It’s enough to drive a man insane

or to gain the whole world,

but even then, the world isn’t enough

A trick of fate?

Likely—it’s that invisible thing

in that black bag of theirs.

And women, always hold their purses tight

It’s dangerous to put your hands in there

You never know,

what you might find.


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