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I wrote this in eleventh grade English. Pretty good for someone with no, uh, direct experience.

To His Reticent Tease

If tomorrow never came,
I'd put up with your teasing game.
We could sit and waste the days
In goopy dumb romantic ways.
You'd prattle on about our hearts,
While I could sit and admire your parts.
I'd ogle both your cherry lips
And scrutinize your curvy hips,
Admire your rosy thighs with zest,
And contemplate your great big chest.
I guess that you enjoy that stuff,
But frankly dear I've had enough.
I've suffered in this horny state
Forever--and yet you make me wait,
And when Death's scythe comes swinging down
We'll both be going underground.
In the future, all I can see
Is six feet deep for you and me,
Where worms will get what I can't caress
Concealed beneath your flimsy dress.
So what's the point of staying pure
To lose it to a fishing lure?
Be grateful that I wait for you,
I could get it from someone new.
So before we both turn old and gray
Won't you at least give me a lay?
Let's get to it while we're able
Perhaps here on your coffee table.
But all I really wish to say,
Is let's have our fun while we still may
Since someday soon we'll both be dead,
Let's cut the crap and go to bed.
For though we cannot make time stop
It goes quite fast when I'm on top.

(1994)

Read the original poem