There are men that knit stories of affection,

Stories of love, and stories of dedication.

They make you believe that you’re important than their life,

Then they tell the same thing to the next in line.

Yes, you’re like season and seasons always change,

There’s never one constant, but after every change, it rains.

Yes, feelings are important and they feel too much,

That’s also one reason why one woman, is seldom enough!

They lie unsurprisingly and it’s difficult to tell,

After all, they bind you with their bewitching spell.

They are dangerous, than danger itself,

Because they haven’t yet discovered themselves.

Every woman is nice as long as she falls for the charms,

But if she questions something, it raises an alarm.

Such men like their women timid,

That are meek and unarguably stupid,

Because objects shouldn’t have a voice,

And whatever objects, is never a choice.

They believe heartily that nothing is permanent,

And that’s their reason, for the short arrangements.

To the men that lie, we know who you are,

The times have changed, your lies have travelled afar.

To the men who lie, know our hearts have fortified,

The declaration of love, no longer makes us blind.

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya