He liked her
And she liked him
But —
She was afraid
Of being used physically
By a man
Who wasn’t really interested in her
Emotionally.
She thought:
That’s just what men do
He was afraid
Of being used emotionally
By a woman
Who wasn’t really interested in him
Physically.
He thought:
That’s just what women do
And they each interpreted the other’s actions
As proving their own theories
Even though they both liked each other
Physically
And
Emotionally
There is an age where boys and girls are friends
Before the madness comes, in puberty;
When differences do not seem so remote
Acceptance is their common currency
But years turn into hormones, and we set
Ourselves apart in gender mystery:
And kids who once spent hours off alone
Walk by each other, like they do not see
And some say then, that friends we cannot be,
For sexual desire is too strong:
And though a boy and girl may really try,
Their thoughts turn to attraction before long
I think this theory’s stupid, and here’s why:
I know attraction’s real, and we all feel it –
But banks all have the money we desire,
That doesn’t mean we all go try to steal it
To say we can’t be friends because of sex
Is patently untrue; we just don’t try.
Which is a shame; we miss out on a lot –
With most of us not ever knowing
Why
Some girls love high-status boys,
With fancy houses, fancy cars,
And even though they may be grown
Will still moon over rockstars —
But others see things differently,
And love wherever love may lead,
And don’t require crowds to tell
Their hearts what they may need.
And all that I can say of this
Is I’m glad for the second kind
Or else I’d live a lonely life
With no one to call mine —
For though I have a few things now,
I lack the apparatus
To give a woman more than me
Or anything
Like status
she said she never knew true love until she had a child and i felt hurt as men will tend to do to know that we're extrinsic to a woman's love at last reckoning yet i had learned the lessons i was taught as a child -- that men are expendable in fire in flood in war it is our job to die so the greater work can go on without us if needs make so and that women will transfer the full expression of their love always to the smallest person in the room and they'll call you when they're ready for another one maybe
There is a kingdom, far away
Where day is night and night is day
Where all work happily, sans pay
And men make sense to women
There is a place somewhere out there
Where happy people do not care
And people look, but never stare
And women make sense to men
A world that’s ever upside-down
Light-years away, but just ‘cross town
Where joyous people always frown
And we make sense
To others
So men are simple creatures, and
Each one is just the same?
I say, look at your choices, for
Those might just be to blame
You say it doesn’t matter, for
Each man is like the last;
I’d say the pattern’s obvious,
It’s right there, in your past
For while attraction’s what it is,
Behavior, once it’s known,
Is countenanced or not, as one’s
True character is shown
I’m trying to tell you, friend,
It doesn’t have to be this way:
But I am just a man, and you
Won’t hear a word
I say
And so I spent the next 12 months
Behaving in this way:
With every girl I’d meet I’d have
Almost nothing to say
Which made me strangely popular
More than I’d ever been;
I was never myself, but thought,
“Girls don’t want that from men.”
But suddenly, I met someone
Who did the same to me;
I called it out – a tactic –
And she smiled that I could see
“Most men like to talk about
Themselves, I’ve always found.”
And it was hard to argue
For her reasoning was sound
I mentioned that I usually
Found women just the same.
And both of us were laughing
That we both played the same game
And suddenly I liked her
And I think that she liked me
And she told me the truth
And got my fullest honesty
She was a stunning actress
With a fabulous career;
And the few weeks she was around
I always was sincere
And showed my human weakness,
But – I loved that time back then;
And swore I’d never ever
Be a fake with girls again
POSTSCRIPT
Alas, for frail humanity
At least, alas for mine:
I did the best I could, I guess,
And most the time was fine
But it’s hard to be honest, when
You struggle, image-wise:
And when the person that your with’s
More comforted
By lies
It was a coolish summer night
A bunch of us outside:
This friend who had a houseboat
And a lot of beer supplied
And I was kind of quiet.
Don’t know why – just being cool –
When she came up to talk to me
She worked days at the school –
And she was not much like the girls
That usually came my way;
And I was not much like myself
I had little to say
We drank, she did the talking;
It grew late out by the shore —
And I was still aloof, which seemed
To make her want me more
And I thought, “That’s what women want;
They want to do the work.
No wonder every girl I know
Is with some stupid jerk.
So I can be one too, I guess,” –
She moved in for a kiss –
“And really,” I thought, “really –
That is all there is to this?”
