male models

Sorry world.

I wrote a poem about Instagram girls

And left out all the male models.

My mistake.

Since it’s not only my sex that smells of fake.

I hate to be the one to break it to you.

No wait I’m lying…

I love it, I really do.

See, here’s the thing, honey.

We can see you know you’re hot

And the side to you that’s not

Those oil coated abs

I’m sure they rake in some money

But is that all you’ve got?

I wrote this to tell you

That it isn’t less scummy

Not an ounce less distasteful

Then the girl you and your chummies

Roast like a leg of lamb

Belittle and slam

Because she’s on only fans.

Oh what, that’s a shocker?

I dare compare you, so prestiged

To the wh*re

You wouldn’t touch with a 10 foot pole!

Well, your double standards are getting old…

And I’m not going to put a band-aid

On your big, fat, wounded ego.

Pray sweetie, it’s plain to see

You’re very pampered

But you’re far from perfect.

Even with that expensive degree,

You’ve lost your rationality.

Good looking, fake tanned and tall

Gets you some decent respect, sure.

But your vanity has gone unchecked

So it’s not the be all and end all.

Your captions…

Shallow as your intellect.

I know that’s a hard pill to swallow

But it really does water down your effect.

You put the ‘eh’

In men

And the cotch

In content.

Please tell me,

What are the extents you’ll go to

To get a little attention?

But a little is not enough,

And I cringe at your greed

To be perceived

As some earth-walking god.

A desperation that exceeds

All the work you put into

That dazzling facade.

You binge on the girls and boys

Who are convinced

That you’re better

Because you’re beautiful.

Because you’re chiseled.

And you know damn well

You’re shriveled,

Your buzz has fizzled.

So now you’re scavenging for your soul.

Buried by the boy who grew up in a home

Where too much praise was shown

To aesthetics and athletics

Maybe your real emotions were unknown

So now you value cosmetics

And take pride in your genetics

Because deep down, you feel alone.

But you’re not.

And that was just a caveat.

The truth is you’ve got that Y chromosome

And the world needs it.

A warrior spirit to lead us,

One that heeds direction from his inner wisdom

And speaks the creed of universal awakening.

Now begins the era of salvation,

The transformation of a generation.

Be the one who feeds our sovereign resurrection.

Male model

Turned millennial apostle.

Now wouldn’t that just be..

The story of a century?