Girls.

I never wrote this either again i just like it. this is the second half to A Poem About Boys.

There are so many good things in life,
like cars, money, and weed.
But if you want something confusing,
a girl is all you need.

A girl doesn’t say what she want’s,
but you’re somehow supposed to know.
If they want to do this or do that,
stay here, stay there, or just go.

Then there’s the time, you all know what I mean,
that monthly little joy.
That lets them abuse the shit out of you,
just for being a boy.

If you ever dare look at another girl,
they seem to scream, go on and panic.
But watch how fast they ignore you,
at the sight of that queer from Titanic.

They give you questions like “Am I fat”?
And, “If you could go out with one of my friends, who”?
There is no answer, face the facts,
you are defiantly through.

They take things and blow it up,
and make a tremendous fuss.
So girls, no matter what you think,
you are just as hard to understand as us.