Girl Code??!

She wants the finest things in life,
She has me working double shifts every
night?
Quarrels, arguments, constant rife,
All about how she feels unappreciated
and I ignore her calls in the middle of the
night,

*sigh*

So what do ladies really want?
What is love?!
Is it the need or the material
wants to flaunt?

You have a man stretching to the ends
of the world for you,
Sometimes against his own will, he does
the unthinkable but yet appreciating what
you have has become the hardest task for
you,

So what do ladies really want?
What’s with this indecision that has you
tripping when a man questions your ambition?
You can go 3 months with no abuse, squabbles
or restriction but still call to tell him one day
that your ex is the one you’ve been missing?

See how I’m stressing over stressing women
who choose to stretch before accepting men
who do their best to not vex because they want
to make these girls their next,

And yet, the story remains the same,
You want chariots, horses & carriages and tiaras,
Cruising in the newest whips, rocking the latest
diamonds, gold chains and fur
But let’s be fair, your bottom didn’t start from
here,

So why care about these things?
you were brought up as a princess in the heart waiting to be molded by a man who’d call you queen,
Not for what you own, but what you stand for,
A woman with values and principles to adore,

So what do women really want?
You claim you don’t want all the
stress and the nonsense,
But keep giving chances to men
with fat pockets and empty promises,

And when shit hits the fan you ran to
the man who you claimed wasn’t man
enough to provide you all your needs and
share your dreams and plans,

You want an understanding man but he should
be able to provide you with not less than a grand,
You’re about the sika and not the man,
So anything else is a waste of your time,
Like a taboo against your religion and clan,

Is it that deep?
If it is, does it stretch deeper than a well or than a 140-character philosophical tweet?
Oh well,

I’m stuck here in a realm trying to figure
out what women want but the process
is more cumbersome than a rubik piece,
At the same time I’m trying to figure out
why good men are treated as mere peasants
and worthless antiques,

I’m a victim, he’s a victim,
We all bear the syndromes to this incomprehensible disease,
Perhaps the antidote lies within them
but they’re are suffering from
an usual type of glaucoma,
So though their eyes are open, their hearts
fail to see

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