She met him on the street Hustling for white-collar job Under the scorching heat with dusty feet She accepted to be his heart throb
Her first visit to his house She saw nothing but charcoal stove He lived like a mouse; how could she possibly be his spouse? She looked into his eyes and gave him love overdose
She watered his head with ideas She planted wisdom in his heart She gave him strength and took his weakness She turned his cart into an art
Days drove into months and months strolled into years He stood on his feet She buried his fears by lending him listening ears In a twinkling of an eye, his bitter sweat became sweet
Those were her decisions What are yours? Did a guy sell his television to give you provisions? Love is not looks that lure but trait that cures