The boy stood by the broken wreck,
All that was left of his heart,
A million pieces scattered hither,
Of what was once whole part,
He’d strived, he’d sought, he’d wooed in vain,
the damsel was unmoved,
and though he would get by the pain,
his hypothesis was proved.
The female of the species, it’s so apparent to me,
has a block of solid stone,
yea one big block of solid stone,
the place where heart should be,
for life is such a merry fling,
they feel nary a single thing,
no joy, no sorrow,
to lend, to borrow,
no ups, no downs,
no smiles, no frowns,
no hopes, no fears,
nor bridal tears,
for emotion is a dirty word,
a filthy seven layer turd,
weakness emotion, weakness pain,
weakness compassion, weakness change,
weakness is death, death to weakness,
for bitter, for better,
for worse, far worse,
the female of the species might,
the heart of stone, the heart of steel,
but being male, I must write,
I Am therefore I Feel.