I'll make sure I'm ready,
Before you take my hand.
Coz I know that you are hazy;
While I'm reserved and a bit bland.
I hate to be a married woman,
Who makes unreasonable demand,
From her very just and decent man,
And cause him to feel the guilty one.
At times we fight like there's no tomorrow,
I might get angry and throw fit at you.
In a snap you threw your lamest jokes,
So I'll burst to laughter in front of you.
I'll always write you cheesy love poems,
Even reading it all, makes you bored.
Even my both hands turns to get tired,
Just for you sweetheart, I still write.
Walking at the park in our golden years,
Still have your dirty jokes in my ears,
Though our springtime now is far gone.
I'll love you honey, 'til kingdom come.
***
I would like you to know that I don't write love poems. I hate it, even thinking about it. But here I am, just finished writing one. Haha. This what happens when you really run out of inspiration, delusion begins.
