You’re anything but usual, ordinarily, I’d just pass you. Interesting, I find your kind, never too attached to, any woman, ’cause any woman might just say she had you.

Not mad but you, know better and who, you fooling, ’cause you knew, I know you. Know that you care about you, know that you hide from the truth, but you…you think you got it.

Stressing…stressing every woman you touch, and kissing….kissing every woman you lust, leaving after you undress ’em, night-night after you impress ’em. It’s stressful!

Finally, it gets to you and you can’t believe it’s true, love finds you, lust leaves you, but you’ve been deceiving, and you’ve been misleading, flirting with sin consistently, breaking hearts deliberately.

You assure you, that she feels the same as you, that she loves you ’cause you’ve always been loved. Entitled to so much, but much was never enough, so why now are you entitled to be loved?

Oh, that’ s right, ’cause you now know love or even better because now you appreciate it, and you’re ready because you say you’re ready and that excuses you says who?

Oopssss, not quite, you’re a bit too soon or a lover too late, she was just a pond and you fell for the bait. She doesn’t love you, she knows too much, she set out to intrigue you, she’s heard of your touch, she intended to mislead you and seek retribution, as her sister had cried, now… so you would!

Now you’re looking for love in all the wrong places, which is what has brought you here, but I can’t help you, I’ve done enough, that was my sister, who left you in tears.

 

-Plychette Montgomery

 

 

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