On day six
The gods did fashion
A creature thick
They labelled man,
Save on day seven
Concept was panned,
As but a failed trick,
And forced to confess
‘Twas their worst yet,
This lowest living form
The world would get,
And gods coined human …
Thus without a soul
Ingredient main
In held man’s role,
Ideated in its stead
Implanting greed
To complete its head,
Yet would err apart,
By the omit of a heart…
Hence till all be dust
This fashioned man,
Be a merchant of greed
Who’d forever fuss,
To feed an inexorable lust!
~ a cry for woman to usurp,
considering man’s record ~
Poetry on a canapé 