What Lame — Anemic Creatures —

by Apple Dickinson

WHAT LAME — Anemic Creatures —
    You Gentle Boyfolk are!
With all your living done in Rooms,
    Your video-game War!

Such soft untried Convictions,
    A Terror of the mind—
No depth of Human Feeling,
    Of Extremity ashamed,—

It's such a messy Glory,
    A Loser's Pedigree!
But Dude, if you don't have it,
    You'll never Get with Me.

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