Sex is something that does not concern us;
We are, in fact, so alike it is hard to discern us.
What we have is indeed so much more:
We talk, and we laugh, and we adore.
When you and I meet we feel no primal needs,
Instead we go wherever our conversation leads.
It is, sometimes, a pity we don't feel the urge,
But then how else are we to control the population surge?
This a poem I wrote quickly my senior year of high school, to the mental tune of a song by Sting. It describes a potentially frustrating situation, and one way of justifying it.