What a dirty pig, all she does is bitch,
this is no love game it’s all a trick.
Goes around choose’s and picks,
that’s what they all say, they all talk shit.
Try to burn her down,
but she’s not made of hay
she’s made of bricks.
They burn at the edges of her structure.
Everybody wants to see those walls rupture.
Her lungs won’t puncture.
Steel breath it’s a wonder,
how can you not marvel,
she still lived after it got harder.
It’s so easy to judge or hold a grudge,
very few nudge. Those who do can feel her clutch;
but she doesn’t ask for much.
© 2015 Marlin Alicea Fernández, Soul to Ink. All Rights Reserved