Note: This poem is a fictional continuation of “The Flea” written by the famous English poet John Donne. I have written this epilogue, which continues the poem from the point of view of the female character. To read the poem “The Flea”, click here.
Nay good sir, I do request kindly that you cease,
Thine incessant pursuit truly makes my interest decrease;
You know that no matter how much you try,
I shall not fall into your net and will forever deny
Surely you must contain your never-ending lies,
They fail altogether in strengthening our ties;
What possibly has led you to think
That I am so easy to hoodwink,
And the ship of my reputation sink?
It is an inescapable truth that you so readily refuse,
To sleep with me, a flea is not the perfect excuse;
I am not what you so ardently crave,
Thus, I understand not why in such a manner you behave
Is it the outcome of thy lust
That you turn my honor into dust?
Have you not a drop of shame,
That you so willingly wish to sully my name?
For you, are these matters of love just a game?
Take heed of my father’s wrath,
Nothing shall end well in the aftermath;
The thing that I so invariably withhold,
Is more important than your lustful passion tenfold
Art thou such a man with every other mistress,
Or am I the only subject that you thus distress?
Although thy charming personality would another woman ensnare,
You must, I beg you, my prestige spare;
And now wake up from thy nightmare!
