Bounces

Where is the virtuous rationed restraint
I felt I used to have? It has departed,
To go I know not where; and yet I ain't
Even a bit, a smidgen, broken-hearted.
Of course I'd rather be reliable
In my good sense and common rectitude,
But somehow I am glad that I am pliable
And all in all a far more hoopy frood.
I let desires that I have exist
And even exercise them if I can;
My knickers are not always in a twist,
So being thus I am a happy man.
I'm sorry if my non-restraint's annoying
But I'm too busy with you over-joying.