POET ON RAMPAGE DAY 8- My Business

Good old cousin Rosy
I know you’re quite nosey
And nothing short of a busybody
But I must tell you
And I hope it sinks through
That;

Whatever I wear
Or choose to do with my hair
Is my business.
However I walk
Or choose to talk
Is my business.

Whomever I floor
Or choose to fall for
Is my business.
Whatever I think
Or choose to ink
Is entirely my business.

I want no more letters
Restraining me like fetters
No more dos and don’ts
Nay, a hackneyed attempt
At turning me into you
Or I shall begin to reply
With my shan’ts and won’ts
And pent up contempt
As and when due

I hope you’ll do the needful
For that I’ll be grateful.
Your sweet young cousin,
Dunsin.

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