Never talk to her mad,
Even when she’s dirty as mud,
Look in her eyes with a smile,
Be the man down the aisle,
Be keen to notice her sad tears,
That were planted by her peers,
Feel sorry for her in an embrace,
Weave a smile on her wrinkled face.
Never show her your back,
My son, be the one she’ll pick
Never leave her wonder in the cold,
Cuddle her till she feels bold.
Be kind to hold her hand on the way,
Make her feel she got nothing to pay,
Listen to her whisper in the dark hour,
All she needs is your power.
©Joweda