Lock Out Love Looters

Can’t understand why a woman’s heart grows so fickle It labels a man with clean intentions a bore Treating a player as though from him a miracle Would elevate her life to polish her social ore Into a gem that shines brightly To elicit her best qualities in advancing her best interests To the optimal level wisely and judiciously Although the player she accommodates becomes the Nemesis Who in the long run pours on her life lower romance quality Uncertainty, doubt, sorrow as a gregarious genesis Sucks her sunrise slaying the stability and reliability The woman reaps from accommodating the sweet talker With selfish motives, egotistic goals, short term views Driven to the brink of exploitation in which no bliss broker Steps forward to empower the woman to gather clues and cues To modify and rectify her misconceived notion that soft nothings Uttered with verve and stealth don’t constitute a subterfuge Meant to hoodwink the naïve approach inherent in fickle feelings A woman nurtures towards sacrificing her huge Future for short term complacency In the context of sophism and masochism That feeds weeds of trouble and dependency In which women are losers to sadism and egotism Until women opt to weigh pros and cons of informed choices To turn down warm seekers and favour sublime suitors Whose intentions grant women’s voices Space and time to exercise their freedom to lock out love looters.