Wednesday 17 September 2014

You are just but a male



You hate me
You would never date me
Even if I were a golden plate

Your loath is strong
All I do is wrong
As if am poking you with a red hot tong

But you are just a male
As irrelevant as a P.O BOX mail
You’ll never bail my tail; just waiting to hail my fail

You are not key
You are just but thee
Like a desert priding in a quay

I may not be without defect
In fact am imperfect
Very far from the finished project

But She'll love me like a dove
They’ll treasure me like a clove
Even if aside you shove me like a derelict stove

Tomorrow the sun will rise, even if just to spite the ice

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