Ladies may long for your money, cars and expensive shiny things- but not you,
They may long to have your name and all that comes with it- just not you,
They can spend the rest of their lives happy in your house- not with you,
They may have pleasure with your shallow body but never taste your honeyed heart.
Their affection lasts as long as your plastic hosts a family of zeros,
Their clothes drop at every cling and clang, clink and clank,
They know neither of a woman’s heart nor verbs,
Just the twisted tongue of plastic queens.
They bear hearts of gold all covered in mould,
To them, love is a putrid mess they tolerate,
But I holler through the lonesome halls of your heart,
“Not I!!! Not I!!! ”
For I live and breathe, set to conquer your doubts,
To surrender all the expensive nothings you hold,
For with your sturdy arms wrapped around me,
I am home.
Next to you I rest exultantly on my treasure…chest,
Your heart, my treasure I find.
*This poem does not attack ladies as a whole but seeks to unveil the traps of plastic queens.