My friends wonder
They grovel and ponder
Whenever I tell them
Over romantics, I'd choose a man
with a golden and accented hand

Men that seemingly fuck my mentality
Asks and belittles my morals and capability
Yet one I must say about them
Is unlike these sweet as sugar romantic antics
Have never begged nor ask for body pics

So don't persuade me to be with a better man
When relationships and marriage is nothing but a money bang
To what use will you use flowers and chocolates
When these have been used and thrown in garbages

Don't sink your irises down upon me
Thinking you're better, holier than thou
If I unlike you, choose to be with a provident man

Because one way or another
I believe there's a difference between man and woman
Call me a tradionalist or stuck up in the ass
But in Genesis three, man's punishment is to reap what he sow
Through the sweat and blood of his brow

To work under the heat of the scorching sun
Till his skin is tan and his body is molded
Oh but dear do I adore a man who's body is sculpt
Can you fault me for falling in a man's bodily vault?

Yet there is a deep lingering that I must provide an explanation
All I can say is say fuck you and fuck this too
Just because a woman hopes for things be the way it was
Do you belittle me and call me a gold digger buzz?

Perhaps it's my unmended past
But bet, you don't want to hear such fuss
And yet if I can't explain nor say anything
Then why again judge me for things that need explaining?

I apologise if I can't fit into poems
Mere words and lines the whys
Of how I'd prefer a man with wealth than one that has none

But that's the reason of poems
To write, to writ
To bleed things
To never be seen
Deemed by society
Too bold,
Too brash,
Wasn't the very concept of woman that?
© Ovalie