Love finds a way like water
The right recipe matters
From a pot to make a dish
Meant to sustain and nourish.
Why is it that when man desire
To possess the burning fire,
He rushes where Angels fail to thread
For love, he goes off the deep end.
Until she fall under his belt,
He always seem to fidget
Most times his liver falters
And the right words fail to utter.
At the other side of the net,
Even with bee in her bonnet
The lady would be a cold fish
And dark horse, in face of her wish.
Loved it.
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