Bachelor’s Curse

The curse of a woman, quite unruly. Since the spell my nights pass bluely,
Completely filled with night mares truly, as Cupid smiles upon me cruelly.

His poisoned arrow went astray, to hazard the path of a bachelor’s way.
When the sandman grins with tooth decay, carefree pillars begin to sway.

His leering laughter, he was busting, sprinkling sand and magic dusting.
My golden bachelor chains are rusting, ending nights of liberal lusting.

As nightfall swoops, I fear the team that spends the day to spring a scheme.
They hatch a hideous horrendous dream, to pester me with gleeful scream.

A lengthy list of torture teachers, all my childhood nursery creatures,
Learning lines to star the features, taunting me with thoughts of preachers.

Jack Frost appeared in ice clad boot and a Hong Kong tailored sermon suit.
“Your life is one without a root, and a single tree bears withered fruit.”

Up above my head so round, a stork of white whom mocking frowned,
Brought prophesies of doleful sound, to show me I was sinful bound.

“No restful sleep for you,” he said, “Persist you lead the life you’ve led.
I’ll spring a child from every bed, lest you decide it best to wed.”

And each in turn with barb and thorn would follow suit to laugh and warn.
The way was paved as John Barleycorn entered midst their joyful scorn.

Crawling from some darkened hole, with blood shot eyes of molten coal,
The giver of back door parole looked down upon my wretched soul.

Liquor fumes of foul disguise, did well to hide his liquid lies.
“A bride-less life is very wise.  A drinking man should have no ties.”