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A pair of studded jackboots would look great
For showing off your shapely woman’s thighs.
Your blonde hair would find suitable adornment
In a steel helmet – largest size.
In your hand I see a coiled whip
To force the Untermensch down on his knees,
Or else a grinning Death’s head bayonet –
Your sexy leather thongs taunt and tease.
To you, my feelings are of no account,
Though once we kissed and were much more than friends.
You trampled on my love with booted feet,
You lashed my back with stinging punishments,
Beneath that helmet not a thought could squeak
Of friendship, sympathy, or common sense.
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