I don’t do sensitivity well,
So I see no point in trying;
You'd agree if you saw how silly I look
When I try to pretend I’m crying.
I’m dreadful at showing humility.
It's a tap-dance I never got right.
Even worse, the shameful deficiency
Doesn't keep me awake at night.
I’m awful at being remorseful
And, sadly, don't flinch at the flaw.
No matter how dodgy my conduct might be,
Regrets will not stick in my craw.
Mothers, learning I’m with their daughters,
Often need a HUGE dose of endorphins,
Which, come to think of it, probably explains
Why the girls I end up with—are orphans.