No woman ever can be she of whom he dreams;
Nor can they give him comfort on the road.
Yet every night he plots and thinks and schemes.
Hence rarely does he ever go abroad.

No food he eats will satisfy his tongue.
The best wine is as naught to mother’s milk.
He grumbles and will not believe he’s wrong.
I‘ ve known more folk than him of this same ilk.

No bed can give him comfort in his sleep.
No sheets and pillows made can suit his skin.
He often has made delightful maidens weep
Crying out they’re far too fat or skinny thin.

Beware the man who rarely can adapt
For in his hidden wishes he is trapped.

Of course when I say man I am using it in the generic sense to include all humans of whatever gender or bender they may be as wall know our Latin and the difference beteen vir and homo.. so homosexual refers to lesbians and virsexual applies to men in the nongeneric sense…
It’s many years since I learned Latin so i may have erred there and elsewhere though never as a homo as yet but that may be in the future waiting for me like that black monster that ran across the floor last night.
Horror and sex seems an odd thing at my age but if it kills me what away to leave the planet.I think I’ll knit a crocodile now