Running from Girls

Pretty girls, like little pills that cure you,
of an ailment that you never suffer.
Feeling that you've won her gives you virtue,
knowing that you've lost just makes it tougher.
Boys spend their middle years out chasing tail,
but run when tail's attached to beating heart.
And girls will flaunt their bodies like a grail,
to snare the child but tear the man apart.
But every now and then there comes a pair,
who seem to be removed from playing games.
Like plants in fertile soil, ripe fruit they bear,
like wood that's soaked in oil they kindle flames.
Don't rush to toss your heart in front of girls,
remember not all oysters carry pearls.