Okay, okay, I admit I’m a fan,
Of the mammary gland,
And I do find them very appealing,
I try to be discreet, and to stare at my feet,
Or I glance,
But then look at the ceiling,
It’s just so frustrating,
Cuz they’re so fascinating,
All those breasts, apple, pear-shaped, or conal!
I don’t mean disrespect,
I may have a defect,
In fact I think that it may be hormonal!
Behold the breast, it does possess,
The magic of a shaman,
It captivates and titillates us all,
Even the gay man,
A scope that comprises all shapes and sizes,
Something for every taste,
From meaty beaty big and bouncy,
To more than a handful’s a waste,
Still if one conforms to social norms,
I feel it must be said,
Ones mammary should never be,
Bigger than ones head.