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.