Men is her father,
remorse are all her tears,
every night is a raining day in her room,
if Earth had something new to invent
let not it be a man
beauty is a product displayed
prior to the eyes of folks
no one passes by without a gaze
like a cheap product runs out of stock
Most of it hath become artificial,
trust not those smiley faces,
out of a sad soul is a broken piece of heart,
that wound keeps bleeding without blood,
keeps aching without any poke,
One thing given to hide is our beautiful mugs,
Those words were once tasty,
so luscious unbearable, melting thy heart,
until a man begins to walk by heart
out of love...