I'm a cad and a scoundrel because
I love to gaze at women with red hair
I long to stare at their vermilion locks
and their delicate skin that is so fair
I know it is wrong to objectify women
but there is really nothing I can do
This affliction has befallen me
since I was but a young lad without a clue
Maybe it's the way I felt as a child
while looking at my mom's red tresses
"The color was from a bottle,
but it mystified me so", the poet confesses
As I matured, I always favored
the ladies with the natural, crimson locks
Even though I was too shy to approach them
for fear of rejecting mocks
But to this very day,
I am nothing but a quagmire of fear in their proximity
I know it's an irrational phobia,
I'm certain of their kindness and normalcy
I suppose I will always worship them
from afar and enjoy that sensation
Maybe if I removed them from the pedestal
they would lose my adoration
