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Summer is a whore.

A poem about the day beachgoers swarmed to the sunny beaches after lockdown was announced.

By DamilolaPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
2
Summer is a whore.
Photo by David Emrich on Unsplash

Can I compare summer to a filthy whore?

Swaying her inviting hips to tempt her victims

Off to the beach they go in large numbers to explore

Ignoring the warnings because of her large warm breasts and her seductive kittens

***

Summer, your promiscuity is obnoxious

Enough to bring in thousands of guests to your worship

Even the fear of a deadly virus wasn’t enough caution

You had them with your long pink nails and your pouty red lipstick

***

Summer, you hard-working harlot

The water between your thighs has created a puddle

Bringing large and tiny feet as they ride in chariots

They have come to build sand castles with shovels

***

And so like the rest of us sluts, you must take the shame

Because if you weren’t so beautiful, there will be no one to blame.

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About the Creator

Damilola

poet, wanderer, writer.

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