Array ( [sid] => 3144 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Died A Virgin [time] => 2002-09-01 08:25:51 [hometext] => [bodytext] => She woke a virgin,
Slept a virgin,
Cried and tried and sighed a virgin.
She slept with a thousand men you see,
And still preserved virginity
How was that then?
They said, after she had gone to bed
With a thousand dreams engraved in her head,
Of how true love was truly dead.
How was that? Is it technically true?
With the thousand men who’ve been with you,
And still you remain chaste?
Guess it’s not a waste.
Do you not feel you should give it up,
Stir it all in a coffee cup
Then take it home for tea.
Or give it all to me?
And the virgin upstairs slept on,
The night was bright and stars still shone,
For her night up until now had been,
Full of the needy, in alleys unseen.
She had paced through the night,
Dressed in black but draped in white,
Making money and all the while,
Managed to regain each smile,
Knowing the whole truth.
Despite experience she had youth,
And what was all between,
The men, the pain and the silver screen
She longed to rule someday.
So she carried on her way,
Bar 22, the likely crew,
A bottle of coke and Malibu
A quick ride there, a short lived night
Like them all, getting easier, right?
Sure, she lived a virgin, never was found,
Left to the night and who was around.
Died a virgin as she slept,
Whilst those downstairs with Malibu wept.

[comments] => 3 [counter] => 191 [topic] => 13 [informant] => phildel [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 13 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Died A Virgin


Died A Virgin
Date: Sunday, 1st September 2002 @ 08:25:51 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: phildel
She woke a virgin,
Slept a virgin,
Cried and tried and sighed a virgin.
She slept with a thousand men you see,
And still preserved virginity
How was that then?
They said, after she had gone to bed
With a thousand dreams engraved in her head,
Of how true love was truly dead.
How was that? Is it technically true?
With the thousand men who’ve been with you,
And still you remain chaste?
Guess it’s not a waste.
Do you not feel you should give it up,
Stir it all in a coffee cup
Then take it home for tea.
Or give it all to me?
And the virgin upstairs slept on,
The night was bright and stars still shone,
For her night up until now had been,
Full of the needy, in alleys unseen.
She had paced through the night,
Dressed in black but draped in white,
Making money and all the while,
Managed to regain each smile,
Knowing the whole truth.
Despite experience she had youth,
And what was all between,
The men, the pain and the silver screen
She longed to rule someday.
So she carried on her way,
Bar 22, the likely crew,
A bottle of coke and Malibu
A quick ride there, a short lived night
Like them all, getting easier, right?
Sure, she lived a virgin, never was found,
Left to the night and who was around.
Died a virgin as she slept,
Whilst those downstairs with Malibu wept.



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