Golden Boy Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Golden Boy



There was a man,
Of virile stance
Who lacked a burly physique,
But compensated with ill-wit.
And they called him Golden Boy,
But he never cared.

There was a man,
Of callow eyes,
And electric tongue,
And he could have slept with obscured
Coquettes and they called him Golden Boy,
But he never cared.

There was a man,
Who smoked his cigarettes,
And drank his liquor -
He reeked vilely, undisputedly
Lacerating the streets with cold sighs
And the people thought he was a Golden Boy,
But he never cared.

There was a man,
Who stopped smoking his cigarettes,
And weaned in revelries.
He smelt like a dash of roses
And dauntless masculinity
And they thought he was a Golden Boy,
But he never cared.

Then the man
Started acquainting with love and no love,
Hope and no hope,
Faith and no faith at all,
Appetite and no appetite,
Aching and not aching at all
And he wished he was a golden boy,
But he wasn’t.

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