Sunday, June 26, 2011

The jerk, a poem

By Mory Keita ( This is a revised version of the previous poem.)

He is the jerk, dreams of girls.
He is the charming prince in their reveries,
The bold superman who knows how to care.
They love him because he is manly,                                                          
And he loves them because they love him.

Yeah, he is the jerk, the man.
He is the one who knows how to woo girls.
He is one who makes them cry tears of love at nights.
Yeah, he is the king, the boss of their hearts.

He holds the key to female’s hearts,
And jealously keeps its secret with malice.
He walks like a star, and speaks like a dork.

Look! He is the master of the game.
The chess-player who has mastered mind-games;
Yeah, he is the jerk the best at his game.
He has learned that a girl’s heart his a chess game,
So he has become a dauntless chess player.
He deceitfully manipulates its 16 pieces like a "real man".

Sometimes, I envy the jerk and his jerky tricks;
Truly, he is a skilful master of psychology.
For, though he is a bloody manipulative “bad boy”,
He has earned the dreams of men : women’s hearts.


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