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The Choir Sings, “Chivalry is Dead!”

You buy roses of dozen
and enwrap them in plaster of paris
you propose in diamonds of Tiffany
and box it up in rusty treasure chests
You’re a romantic about face
a caregiver in your spare time
adoration for tuxes on a prom date
dismissing your commitment is a crime.
You write your happily ever after
and bind it in a book of reference
you compose a prelude for a symphony
and perform it in concert hall garage
You’re worth your weight in gold
the remainder is left for fools
statues will be made in your mold
sculpted and chiseled by an idiot’s tools.
(All sing)
Chivalry is dead!
your love is how we’re fed
I’ll eat till I’m engaged,
and marry when I’m dead!


About R. Ward

A husband, father, teacher, and struggling man of God.

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