She wanted to have my last name,
But, I wouldn't allow it because of her wickedness and shame,
She has worn men's last names many times before
And I didn't want her past coming to my front door;
Relationships to her are just a guiltless game.
She has been with so many different men
While always wearing her licentious grin,
To one man a commitment she could never make
And according to her, she never made a mistake;
How can you know the soul, if you don't know where it's been.
She was born to both lie and to cheat
To which she would always continue and repeat,
Was a trait that was passed down to her from her mom
To which she'll pass it to her daughters without a qualm;
So, now she is known up and down every avenue and street.
My last name she will never wear
As some women do with beautiful ribbons in their hair,
A surname to her is just a plan and an excuse
For another child's name, if she does reproduce;
To use my last name she never will, and that I swear.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem