There are men who are boys
they dally about in their passiveness
waiting to be showered and flowered
with no sense of a loved one
they blossom in selfishness
awaiting for the plans to be drafted
and nights to be illuminated and crafted

There are men who are players
whisking games on the preys
as their charisma prevails
and their prominence remains
they tick all the possible boxes
dining with winning romance
Clocking whilst shooting

There are confused men
they are loyal but not committed
never aspiring a family or title
they are emotionally repulsive
present but absolutely absent
Living for today without a future
enjoying a nest whilst single

There are many good men
once the fog clears there they stand
Past the boys, the players and confusion
they will cater and give their all
loving their woman unconditionally
they brace and embrace love gracefully
putting to sleep all the pain and misery