Sunday, October 31, 2010

Dangerous Questions

Dangerous Questions
You said you were not satisfied,
With the way you looked,
Your hair was too straight,
Too curly or something like that,
And then you asked me,
“Am I too fat?”
Now I’m an honest man,
And I like to tell it to you straight,
But no way did I want to tempt fate,
 Any answer I could give might be suicide,
There was no place to hide,
But still I tried,                                                                     
“If straight hair would make you happy,
I could go for that,”
“If you wanted to wear a hat,
I could go for that,”
I didn’t give her eye contact,
I tried to sing a song,
I would have tried anything,
To keep from answering wrong,
Her eyes narrowed,
Her voice grew cold,
“Am I too fat?”
I looked out the window,
For somewhere I could go,
“Uh, what was the question, dear?
I really couldn’t hear,”
Tears were dripping from her eyes,
She heaved a great sigh,
“Please tell me why,
The answer you won’t say”,
The answer came to me in a flash,
It didn’t take a day,
“Why, honey, I like you any way,
I think you’re crazy,
For asking a question like that,
I don’t want mortal combat,
I didn’t choose you for your hair,
Though I like it being there,
Nor did I pick you,
For the shape you’re in,
I love you thick or thin,
There’s nothing I can say or do,
To make this any less true,
I love you simply for being you,”
I think my answer
 Was good enough for now,
But tomorrow is another day,
And she’ll question me somehow,
“Do these shoes go with this blouse?”
It’s time for me to leave the house,
“Would you like me better blond?”
I don’t know how to respond,
It’s a woman’s prerogative,
To change her mind,
And tomorrow I’ll look,
At her with dread,
Her hair might be blond, brown or red,
There might be someplace,
That I can find,
Where I can leave,
Dangerous questions behind.

1 comment:

  1. Chuckle! Men have it tough. I appreciate that. In the interest of clear inter-gender communication, this should have a wide venue.


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