My love ink spilled onto this page.
It smeared across this paper,
this medium of which I pour my rage.
My heart so full of love and lust,
has been stoned by my work of art,
has been poisoned by her trust.
I created a beauty like never before seen.
She graced me with her presence,
As if nothing more than from a dream.
But now here I stand, with this pen in my hand,
so foolish to have been so fooled,
A trickery from which only a woman can.
She's over there, with an ex, I suppose
Loving him more than I, I dare say
With her skin soft as air, and her lips red as rose
Women can only bring this pain, I fear
Only women can make us forget...
Love is a cargo, only a woman can steer.