Poem

I despair when men that I desire treat me with contempt
And yet I chide the other men that try to get me into bed
When they admit their facebook stalking, I roll my eyes and say
Haven't you got anything better to do with your bloody day?
I laugh, call them losers then suggest that we be mates
I'd rather slit my throat than go out with them on a date
Perhaps I am too picky or my standards are too high
If this is the case in point, the truth, then I'd like to know why
All the men I like are bastards and the men I don't are not so bad
All the men I like are mean or taken and this makes me rather sad
The final straw, the ugly truth, the turn and twist of the knife
Is that all the men who are good in bed are somewhat bad in life...