The Penis Poem

I have a little poem, I'll try to make it quick;
The subject is quite simple: the joy of owning dick.

A penis is a splendid thing; you ladies should be jealous.
An organ with such lovely skin, it's smooth and mostly hairless.

It starts to grow so quickly when a guy's about thirteen,
His testicles on either side, his willy in between.

It dangles neatly down below; it's softly warm and loyal.
But at the slightest hint of lust, it's ready to uncoil.

It seems to have a mind all of its own; it's like an untamed beast,
It squirms and writhes and stretches out, just when you 'spect it least.

Sometimes, yes, it misbehaves, erecting when it shouldn't.
A bumpy train ride sets it off, and then I wish it wouldn't.

During summer, wearing little, sunning on the beach,
A glimpse of wobbly boobs or bums will make it squirm and reach.

But handle it with love and care, for it will give great pleasure.
I often check if it has grown - now when did I last measure?

Some men will fret about their size: they give it lots of thought;
Is seven inches long enough? It makes them quite distraught.

They sneak a look in toilets, wondering what they'll see,
But if another glances back at them, there's no way they can pee!

Masturbating is a sin - at least some folks believe.
That's just some old wives' tale, 'cause it really can relieve.
Without this super organ, no shag would be complete.
Lesbians can try their best, but must admit defeat.

It has some splendid functions, I'm sure you will agree:
To start a whole new life, and more than that - to pee!

But what seems most amazing about my one-eyed flute,
Whatever it is doing, it knows which juice to shoot.

And better yet, it stays with one, until one's old and frail.
Don't take it out in public though, or you'll be thrown in jail.

And so I'd say with certainty
That every man just loves his tool:
But girls, be sure you never chew,
Just suck and fondle, lick and play,
And never, ever bend!