Classic Poem

Sentimentality,
You win the love of men
Who look upon you as a soft
And indiscreetly reassuring minx.
You stand upon the street corner
Of their trysts and felonies.
Underneath your glance
Their disappointments grow less harsh
And assume a charmed, theatrical pose,
While their momentary victories
Feel an ardent ownership of life.
Again, to other men you seem
Obnoxious, cloying and replete
With remedies that merely drug the wound.
To them you wander through the sharp
And carnal vagaries of life,
And make the faces of men and women
Blind beneath your perfumed handkerchief.
Yet, you are none of the figures
Engraved upon you by the needs of men
You stand, invincibly compassionate;
Disguised by frail, poetic mockeries;
Held up by an ephemeral erectness:
Whose finely knitted lies
Are often better than the stripped
And grossly stooping honesties of life.
You wait for men to corrupt you
With their snivelings and heavy smiles,
But at your best you add
A quickly graceful, valiant compensation
To the underpaid and slowly wilting
Slaveries of minds and hearts.