The Poseur Poem by David Lewis Paget

She was always saying she'd kill me,
Was violent in word and in act,
But a heart of gold, so her friends have told,
They say it as if it's a fact.
But they'd never had to live with her,
And often, I think it's true,
That you only know what's in somebody's soul
Whenever you have, or you do.

They thought her the life of the party,
All giggles and kicking up heels,
When we were alone, she'd curse and she'd moan,
Just ask me, I know how it feels.
She'd slander each friendship behind their back,
While they were left thinking it fine,
I didn't care much for the friends she'd attack,
But then she'd get stuck into mine.

They'd not see her tempers and tantrums,
Weren't there with her stamping her feet.
I'd heard it said she was good in bed,
She'd wrap herself up in a sheet.
She gave out that she was broadminded
Would flash both her cleavage and thighs,
But never at home, when we were alone,
She'd do it for all other guys.

I never could do a thing right for her
She held me in bitter contempt,
While I'd try to raise her, to lift and to praise her,
She'd just say that I was unkempt.
I took her one day for a picnic lunch,
We sat at the top of a cliff,
The weather was balmy, I thought it would calm me,
It did, but her manner was stiff.

She soon resurrected an argument
I thought that was over and done,
My mind was quite hazy, but she was stone crazy,
And soon she had started to run.
I stood at the edge of the towering cliff
With her charging at me, and how!
She came in a rush, but she missed in her push
Or I wouldn't be writing this now.

6 March 2017