The Black Hole is waiting for us all
They say, “No light escapes.”
I send my manuscripts into it, and laugh.
Does laughter escape?
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,
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.