Punk and String

A lil’ advice for sisters;

Never tell how many frogs you have kissed,

especially if you still haven’t found your prince.

uh-un, bad idea. Can see some of you already cringing.

the number that bad? Lemme guess!! 20, 40…

aww man, never let it out…ever

cos if you do the “let’s lay our past on the table so we both can have closure type shit”

with him, well… you’d have closure alright

in the form of a greasy hair punk

who’d treat you like a string hanging loosely

waiting to be plucked and out he’d fling

lest you make a mess of a perfectly

ordered tune of dating, courting,

marriage and happy ever forever.

Now you see where the label fling came from

You always short of breath from the exertion 

and him, tall as they come moving slowly

in between hating you and loving you

and thinking “what is the best way to get rid of her” when you purr.

You see, nothing you do will erase 

the mental paint canvass from his mind

you are the sia to the mese of your past

and no surgery can replace the cut out limb

nor any facial reconstruction smoothen out

the wrinkled lines permanently tattooed on his face.

Trust me no one wants to be told “you are a dog”

but that’s what he’d wanting to use as

the arsenal to ignite the breakup

So, here’s what you should do…but don’t quote me

Lie through your teeth cos honesty got nothing on it.

Even the fairy need a lil twist in the tale sometimes

cos how can there be a maleficent if there

wasn't a sleeping beauty story.