Men and Their Hearts

I, writer All a fluster Men, for my sake Nail your hearts with a stake. Or if that leads you discontented Take you praises you invented And shove them where no sunshine rises Never to return their bitter demises; Oh I’ll explain, my XY ‘‘friends’’ Because I’m at the very last of my wits ends Just with being pretty, having a good personality Excluding out how I feel personally. Charmer? Not interested. Toy boy? Get lost! To the death with men’s attraction, my opinion held aloft! I, a picky girl Don’t compromise for the world Even if my ideas are ridiculous Makes no sense not to be resistless And I think you’ll find I’m materialistic Nothing less than ritualistic Don’t you dare tell me that I’m flirting Really? With you? You’re looking for a hurting! Ever spurn the cursed Valentine’s Day Quit missing you aim at me cupid, okay?! Unsure who’s my type? I wouldn’t tell you over msn or Skype! Talk to the hand brother And stop giving me bother Like I’d go out with you, when I could have better. Love must be relayed, from me and from him One way doesn’t work; simple logic, Mr. Dim. Vibrators and dominant hands aren’t the same as me End of story. (Read the first letters for a simple explanation. See?)