Green But Strong

My listless, discontented looks won't fool
An old rogue who would snatch me with few thoughts,
Save: "why don't you submit to me; it's cool
For you to seek surrender - slip those shorts
Down right away and let me see the goods;"
Sweet earnestness is wasted on them; charm
Is lost, much like a spruce in brackish woods;
I try to act grown up and be so calm,
Though its depressing, for each imbecile
Can scent the tempting perfume that steals out;
Each wants to be the first to cop a feel,
Before their ancient and gnarled cocks lose clout;
Fucking my face won't serve; nor will the blush
They'd so hoped for (and would have sought to crush).