In the great scheme of life, many choices you make,
Where to work, who to date, your yard when to rake.

The game of hearts is not quite the same,
Who you love and end up with, is all based on aim.

Yes Cupids aim, is sometimes not good,
Dam arrow it lands, in many a strange hood.

Once per chance the target is hit,
They may be charming, attractive and full of wit.

Only the lucky lovers get this type of win,
The arrow is known to bring pain, shame and sin.

Never knowing what's in store for you,
Loving arms and a partner that’s true,
Or an unfaithful idiot, to make you feel blue.

You may think you scored, they look smokin' hot,
Having *** day and night, you love them a lot.

This sounds pretty awesome, is there a down side?
Not unless you count secrets, and the lovers he hides.

The girl that finds sales, and will spend all your cash,
She goes out on black Friday, doing the fifty yard dash.

Coming home the next day, a smile on her face,
I saved money here, and there, and this place!

What she fails to tell you, is your fresh out of money,
Say something about it, she'll resign as your honey.

The men are no better, their tempers get hot,
Slobs and the lazy, and the ones that smoke ***.

One time in the game, Cupid seemed to shoot straight,
He gave me a lover, to see I couldn’t wait.

We had some good times, but the end is the same,
Bad excuses, feelings hurt, another to tame.

Please freakin' Cupid, have a talk with William Tell,
Take an archery lesson, or your bow I will sell.

You keep making me fall, for the wrong type of mate,
Just want a good friend, not a women to hate.

Visit poemsbypaul.com