A SAINT WITH A TAINT
For real love, she eagerly waits,
All she could get were several hates,
Her lips even have many open gates,
That deliberately close lates,
Her eyes have several inbuilt baits,
That still could not find her good mates.
She is actually hell-bent,
That it's true love she really meant,
Even if it's just for a rent,
At least love will be in her tent,
Her beauty needs no lick of paint,
But the voice of love is still faint.
For long she has remained a chaste,
Her face, with a nice beauty paste,
Yet real love, she still wait to taste,
And old age knocks her doors in haste,
She fears fallen for a love heist.
Since there's no true love near her sight.
She's one of the heavenly saints,
Tho' covered with several bad taints:
Her neck is with several tiny dents;
Many of 'em were seen thro' many vents,
And in her heart she has a pain,
That, she will have to forever feign.
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