Woman's Worth Poem by wallace eaton

A woman is that structural balance in a man's life, she's that well brewed cup of maxwell house, perked to perfection before midnight, maybe she's your cup of tea, sweeten, or sweeter then the eye can see. @ times we never really appreciate her thrust for love, late night talks on the living room rug, somehow develops emotional understanding, and not bad blood. If communication is the success to a good relationship, then her words are speechless, and my love for them is priceless. She's been know to sacrifice the womb for 9 months, as it develops into existing life form, although we die, we are born, torn in how to appreciate such a love that should be kept bottled and never pourin. Please allow me to apologize for being less then that understanding friend, ignored your feeling like dust blowin in the wind, shattered your hopes like a glass chin, so forgive me cause I'm here to the end. I salute, everyone of you who's overcome that emotional companion disappointment, but it was always you that made you.You saw, yourself through, so all respect due. She's that intoxicating armor lingering, like a rain filled cloud, waiting to shower with love, wings spread open like doves, if you hurting she'll rub, cause she is love.