What are black holes?
No one really knows
I do. I can now define them very well.
You see they’re defined in these love stories so many live to tell.

Love? It’s not real. How can it be?
For I have tired to love, but was too blind to see
That my love was impart lust and my lust turned into hate.
And now, my hate was really passionate for my handsome brown mate.

He took advantage of my vulnerable heart
And left me mesmerized so I wouldn’t part.

How was I to know I would be a victim of manipulation?
Maybe if I would’ve sat down for a little more contemplation,
I would have realized that his infatuation
With me was due to certain ejaculation.

Everyday I fell in love even more
And everyday he opened another females door.

I don’t blame him for all the nights I cried myself to sleep,
But I do blame him for all the fake tears he pretended to weep.

Now, I wonder if breaking my heart was always part of the plan.
If he didn’t really love me, why couldn’t he be a real man?

I used to wish I carried a seed blessed with his last name
And dreamt of being with him in our future years of fame.

But now, now I’m just glad to have survived the darkness of the hole,
And never again will I be left in it’s cold.