The Same Old Game
When I was a child grown ups cloaked indiscretions,
in shady lots of parked Cadillac’s with doors locked.
The mothers, the fathers, the preachers, and deacons
everyone was out in the open with their cheating.
They thought they were slick even fooling us still
Young folk knew why car windows steamed up.
Every now and then the town gossip would tell
but people ignored her since harlots had no avail.
Now that we are grown we know so much better.
No one gets caught in a car parked or writing a letter.
With the text of a message people get undressed emotionally.
They succumb to fantasy romance, the mystique its allure
The insatiable desire to be loved tempts a reluctant cheater
Unwittingly who curiously clicks the browsers flashing link.
One click leads to a private pleasing chat or a steamy text
Occasionally evolving into cybersex leading astray
Out of the zone yet no one ever physically leaves home.
Engaged deeply in a game of heart cat and mouse
The cyber love cheating takes over the house.
Soon like the mothers, fathers, preachers, and deacons
Everyone’s steaming up monitors with lies and cheating.
Not always getting into a car or being physically there.
But once exposed the home relationship is in disrepair.
See there’s really no difference it’s all the same old thing
Lovers are still cheating just a new venue for the same old game.
Cheryl D Faison
© 2011
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