There are so many women but so little choice, 
and when you find one, eventually the sound of her voice 
will annoy you and drive you up the fucking walls. 
20 years of nagging and domestic brawls, 
culminating in divorce and the kids moving schools, 
then she takes all your money for "the kids" and jewels. 

So you move out and put yourself back on the market, 
only to realise your older and past it, 
and all the women you once could have been with 
are married and happy, living contently with two kids. 

So you resort to those internet dating sites, 
reluctantly, knowing you'll find a village bike, 
who'll lie and tell you she's only slept with four, 
but then you catch Chlamydia, and possibly more. 

But eventually one finds you and an email comes through, 
and she tells you she's got all the same interests as you. 
So you take her to dinner to see what she's got, 
and when you get there you find 
she's phenomenally hot. 

At dinner conversation is flowing and swell; 
she's beautiful, intelligent and honest as well. 
The wine keeps on flowing and you see her potential; 
to take this girl back to your house is essential. 

It matters not if she has some daddy issues, 
it beats sitting at home using up all the tissues. 
And before you know it, you're in a cab together, 
heading back to your place where you'll get the chance to tether, 
her to your bed posts. 
Because that's really what you need right now, 
a woman who really doesn't care how, 
you treat her. Be it rough or filthy, 
or if you spank her; 
as long as it's depraved naughty. 

And after the bed party, you cuddle up close; 
massaging her wrists from the binds to the posts. 
You lay there euphoric, catching your breath, 
comfortably silent, 
until she's honest in depth. 

She says that most of the dick she received was in Europe, 
and that this wasn't the first time she'd been covered in syrup. 
But this makes your heart sink; 
she's just another one. 
Another secret slut; 
she's hardly a nun. 

And you begin to wonder if she's said anything true, 
or if this whole time she was playing and bullshitting you. 
And you're back to wondering if you'll ever find your one; 
Someone who got married, like you, quite young. 
Someone more chaste and deserving of you, 
not someone who's been shagging since the moment she could do. 

And your face explains that by opening her mouth, 
she'll now have to work hard for you to keep her about. 
Because the last thing you wanted was another internet whore, 
whose clothes had been all over random guy's floors. 

These revolving thoughts thus make you want rid of her, 
so you tell her that last week you contracted Chlamydia. 
But to your shock and horror she leans closer into you; 
smiling, she tells you that she's got it too. 
But that was really the last thing you wanted to hear; 
especially since you'd just had your face down there. 
So you lay there in shock and stare at the ceiling, 
appalled that you once found what's next to you appealing. 

And it's right then you realise that this's how things go; 
your divorced, disease ridden, lying next to a hoe. 
But you can't pick your stuff up and walk out or leave, 
because it is your house where you've just shared this disease. 

So you tell her you were lying and you really have aids, 
praying to God that she doesn't have the same. 
And to your great pleasure she gets up and flees, 
terrified she's caught that fatal disease. 

And you're back to lying there all on your own, 
missing those domestics you used to own. 
Because it seems like things were better before; 
at least your ex-wife wasn't a whore. 
And with that thought you sleep a sorrowful night, 
knowing that all things she shouted were right; 
that your midlife crisis was only a phase, 
and most forty year olds go through a craze. 

So, you should have worked through it, 
sticking with your wife, 
But you sigh. "Fuck it, it's done now. 
I guess this is life".