All a fluster
Men, for my sake
Nail your hearts with a stake.
Or if that leads you discontented
Take you praises you invented
And shove them where no sunshine rises
Never to return their bitter demises;
Oh I’ll explain, my XY ‘‘friends’’
Because I’m at the very last of my wits ends
Just with being pretty, having a good personality
Excluding out how I feel personally.
Charmer? Not interested. Toy boy? Get lost!
To the death with men’s attraction, my opinion held aloft!
I, a picky girl
Don’t compromise for the world
Even if my ideas are ridiculous
Makes no sense not to be resistless
And I think you’ll find I’m materialistic
Nothing less than ritualistic
Don’t you dare tell me that I’m flirting
Really? With you? You’re looking for a hurting!
Ever spurn the cursed Valentine’s Day
Quit missing you aim at me cupid, okay?!
Unsure who’s my type?
I wouldn’t tell you over msn or Skype!
Talk to the hand brother
And stop giving me bother
Like I’d go out with you, when I could have better.
Love must be relayed, from me and from him
One way doesn’t work; simple logic, Mr. Dim.
Vibrators and dominant hands aren’t the same as me
End of story. (Read the first letters for a simple explanation. See?)