Cuntington's Disease (by effort of Gg78, Violet & Jes)

Trying to progress -
using haters as motivators
in spite of so called friends hiding a frown
behind a laugh
Looking daggers my way
just because I can dress

That's called jealousy, my dear Friend

Women want respect?
They don't know how to act in front of men
giggling like silly school girls
Not to mention they're giving it up
to anyone that pays them
a little amount of attention,
Then look to a real woman
and wonder how she has all the men..

Maybe it's because she doesn't put out
for a glass of wine,
or maybe she is classy
and knows how to play a guy,
without her goodies on the line

But you,

You really are something else.
I hear you prattling on,
to describe how disgustingly lumpy
your friends thighs look in that skirt,
you know, the one that makes her ass resemble
the back end of a bus
Giggling at how you failed to mention
her panties' fashion faux pas
when she walked out of the toilet
in that testosterone-filled night club.

It's quite horrible to listen to.

I bet you are the type who slithers
up to all the (unfortunate) men,
forcing your poor thunder-thigh'd
friend to put up with watching
your skanky ass being groped all night.
The type who will ditch her if the offer
of some decent penis is on the go.

And me,

Hey, really, I'm peaceful
Don't want your parking space
or your man or your glare - snapping
just because I'm smiling

So sick of ducking under paper bags
to paint a room neutral
dodging you bolder critical creations
that need to pick apart another woman
like she's only in your vicinity
to pose a competition

Come on, Ladies
Where's our grounded sense
of life and love, a broader view
with solid roots? Honesty, charm
in what we are?

Free advice

Just because you have a vagina
does not mean you should exercise it
at every open opportunity.

Get a grip sweetie.
And no,
not of the next dick you come across.