My Woman

Womanhood is a twisted thing
We all try our best to keep the picture perfect image of how a woman should
Act
Walk
Talk.
We're taught to keep our heads high and our legs closed
But he made it so hard for my woman to stay dry and unoccupied
In his jazz smooth voice, poetic phrases came out of his mouth and made me drip

Woman are taught to have morals, but I lost all of mine whenever we got together and when he left he took my woman with him
But I stayed right here.
I was another number for him, he is another one that got away
I looked at my woman in the mirror and asked her "how can you take so much pain" my own reflection walked away from me.