Delusion Poem by Ibn Ali

Isn't it sad?
The virgins naïvety,
She's watched too many films
Too many chiselled chins have distorted her image of men,
That's a shame,
She goes from young lady to maiden
All the while she's still waiting for Brad Pitt to come take her away,
Such a shame,
Listen young miss
If he's as handsome and rich then humility is first to give away,
But she's stubborn and has mettle
We're scared to tell her settle so we sit around and hopelessly wait,
From a grape to a raisin,
She wrinkles and shrinks,
All the while she's still ageing and nobody has something to say,
Now she's in her early thirties,
She's not as ripe and supple
They're slow to reciprocate her flirting,
She's queued all her life,
She was indecisive,
Now she's lost her place in line,
Now all the twenty somethings
Are having fun shopping
And they're buying all the men with their youth,
Such a shame,
You lost your golden years because you didn't like the truth,
More time wasted
As your beauty keeps fading
And the clock keeps ticking
And your mum's grief stricken
Cos she doesn't know what more she could do,
There aren't that many males
If you take away the gays, deviants, insane
And the ones locked up in the jails,
So the ratio and figures means you need to be quicker,
Don't dillydally on the way young lady
If you want to have a baby
Then stop procrastinating today,
It's never cute to be a spinster
Every Misses needs a Mister
Every Princess needs a King
(if she wants to be a Queen)
Stop holding onto dreams
Take a grasp of what's real
Look for and find a man to make complete,
What is a mirage if not deceit,
Alone if not weak,
A bond if not strong,
And I could carry on,
Stop cherry picking grains of sand,
Look for and find a man,
He doesn't have to be special,
We're all the same kind of different,
If he's sincere and tries hard
Then make yourself the difference,
Be his muse, make him excel,
If you wish that he'd do well,
Don't be lazy looking for
A man that already has it all
If that's the case then what's the purpose that you serve,
Love can't stand on weak shoulders,
Every marriage needs mercy
There's s role for each person
If all you bring is beauty then divorce is surely certain,
Bags beneath your eyes,
Greys begin to surface,
Thus the final act,
The falling of the curtains,
When I speak they say I'm mean,
What they mean is when I speak
The truth is often more bitter than sweet,
Maybe true but bitter truths
Please the palette more than a culinary lie,
So need to be abhorred,
She prayed for the one
But he may have come and gone
And you didn't take your chance to be beloved.