NO MEN PAUSE,  NO LONGER

The men, they pause no longer

No longer turn to stare

Or brag to me who’s stronger

Or which one has more hair

Or ask me what my name is

Or what I like to drink

They seem to think the blame is

all mine. (I’ve aged, I think.)

They don’t admire my caustic wit

Or laugh at what I say

They’d rather have some plastic twit

(It seems so, anyway)

So strange:  it never mattered

When youth was rife as dirt

If no one fawned and flattered

It didn’t really hurt.

In smould’ring adolescence

When I was young and svelte

Time was not of the essence

There was too much, I felt!

And men would turn and men would look

And wink and smile and flirt

A backwards glance was all it took

‘Cause I was young and pert.

But now that I know something

Now heart and head are full

Now that I’m not some dumb thing

Who’s spouting so much bull –

Well, men don’t pause, no sir, they don’t

No longer turn and stare

Nor spot the good in me, they won’t

It really isn’t fair!

A smile or two, a nod, a wink

That’s all I really want

Perhaps a dinner and a drink

A happy little jaunt

A little male attention

A little one-to-one

And (to relax my tension)

Perhaps a little fun.

But menopause has come and gone

And sadly, I must say

That men don’t pause – they just move on

And leave me by the way.