Skip to main content

Audacity

How often do we see men pretending to be saints, only to reveal their true colours when the mask slips? Have we forgotten the price of their hollow promises?




You made beds with a pro, thought you were a hunk,
Stumbled home drunk, all swagger and funk.
"Trust me," you said, "shower me with love,"
As if loyalty is a gift sent from above.

The boy who "hates" my tears, oh, what a show,
But laughed loud and clear at my screams, you know.
"Anything for you," you said, such a saint—
Yet broke me by phone, with fruit chaat as paint.

Smirking, "I’ve got a meeting," what a line—
While I drowned in my pain, you sipped your lime.
And now you want babies, a fresh new start,
Praying to gods you made me hate in my heart.

Audacity, dear, should be your middle name,
You play the victim but fuel the flame.
Man of the hour? Oh, what a disguise—
Your greatness ends with your own hollow lies.


How many times have we seen men like this, using charm and lies to deceive, only to fall short when it’s time to show real love? When do we stop giving them a pass?

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

My Tips Get The Job Done

  Boy, you need gold coins and chains, To feel that silky touch. Honey, being with you meant My soul needed a retouch... You might like maple syrup, But I could never build anything with that softwood. It was like babysitting way into my adulthood... You think your presence made it feel like Niagara? Boy, it was drier than the Sahara. Who gave you the license to operate heavy machinery? You never deserved to be anywhere near this sanctuary. Asking women to "blow" you a kiss, When you are the one too "slow" to catch up, And all you are good for is a diss... You need to work because you don't know how real FORCE  works. You get high on your stupid   WARS — How would you ever know the language of the STARS ? Isn't it funny you were trying to teach  me  about fingers? When I can get myself to sing more with my  ladyfingers ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.
Post a Comment
Read more

Call Your Wife... Call Your Mother...

  Call your wife. Call your mother. Tell them how you talk to women like me when no one's watching— But of course, I'm the Outspoken B tch*, and you, the Outstanding Gentleman in your suit and tie. But sure— I’d rather be outclass than be hung like sea bass on your trophy wall, smiling silent while you call me “crass.” Your twisted kinks. Your polished lies. You think I won’t roar? That I’ll tuck in my shadow just to keep your sin safe? I own my dark. Loud. Proud. You will not cage me with your guilt-laced chains. If you were so happy choosing her over me, Then go flirt with her . Not me. Don’t you dare come here with your diluted apologies and leftover lust. I’d rather be The villain in your story Than your sidepiece in silence. Because I remember— You were a playboy then , You’re still a playboy now , And every time you smile and say “We’re still friends”… God, I puke a little. You know your name. Don’t play lost boy. Don’t hide behind your “Good intentions.” I used to care...
Post a Comment
Read more