Letter to Momma

Momma why’d you raise me right?
To bow and be polite?
The ladies like the bad boys, Momma
I’m so alone at night.

Momma why’d you raise me right?
To treat the ladies nice?
The girlies I’ve ran into, Momma
Chill with stares of ice.

Momma, why’d you raise me right?
To put the girlies first?
The ladies think I’m awkward, Momma
Oh Momma, I must be cursed.

Momma, why’d you raise me right?
To treat the ladies fair?
These modern girls are cutthroat, Momma
It’s no time to be a square.

Momma why’d you raise me right?
With manners from years past?
Haven’t you heard these days
Momma, nice guys finish last.


January 29, 2010
@ St. John's College