She’s still a virgin but knows what’s up.
She only drinks juice and water in her double cup.
She knows the game but doesn’t participate.
She likes long term, so if you wanna hit you gotta date.
She’s kinda soft because she’s wifey material.
She’s sent from heaven I guess she’s a miracle.
She’s aesthetically pleasing like fine arts.
Shes on point like she plays darts
She plays mind games like she playing chess.
She got her life together so she ain’t a mess.
An introvert but only in public.
She’s got a thick booty and a flat stomach.
She’s into staying at home and studying so she aint no fun.
But she’s that 10 minus 9, this means she’s the one.
She takes pride at being halla’d at but curving them.
She’s the root to daydreams, sprouted straight from the brain stem.
She too focused on life, that’s why she won’t commit.
All them Fuck boys cheated and they won’t admit.
Heavenly body and i aint talking about spirits.
Her mind is a sweet melody and her beauty, the lyrics.
The typa girl you bring home to mama.
The typa girl that doesn’t get involved in drama.
Picture perfect, Mona Lisa who?
If she were a crime I’d sue.
Sexiness screaming from every motion.
She dates hard with just emotion.
She ain’t a terrorist but she the bomb though.
She got my heart beating like a Bongo.
She don’t fake much, no make up.
Doing boss doctor things just to get her check up.
Closest thing to perfect but got so many flaws.
She’s looking for a Nigga to hold open doors.
Superficial and materialistic ain’t in her vocabulary.
Heart so big she can love for the whole February.
She’s appreciates the little things in life, kisses and hugs.
She got a nigga fiending like the most addictive drugs.
She got an attitude so I know she holds her own.
Her love isn’t restricted by her mobile phone.
Her touch is tender, she’s filled with love and her heart is caring.
The full TLC package, there’s none worth comparing.
Divinity in motion, God’s greatest creation.
She ain’t fake like a hair extension.
I’m tryna sweep her off her feet but I ain’t a janitor.
She knows the way to my heart but I ain’t talking vascular.
When I take her hand, she takes my heart and soul, Exchange.
It’s time to move on to the next one, now that’s an Ex-change.
She questions everyone, including me.
But I’m tryna show her something better, can’t she see.
After every poem I leave Xs and Os like I’m playing tic-tac-toe.
I’m tryna show her the bigger picture like a 3D photo.
Don’t get me wrong I’m not saying she’s perfect.
All im saying is that she’s absolutely worth it.
She gives me purpose.
In this heartless circus.
I’m done pretending.
My love for fake is ending.
She doesn’t have time for fun so it’s hard to keep a relationship.
She doesn’t have time for talks, too busy with her internship.
I need her in my life, just to hold me together.
In a few years men will be out to get her.
Because she’s wifey material and that’s what classy men love to wear.
She’s precious like mamas most expensive tupperware.
But can’t vibe with her because she’s consumed by her books.
She’s smart, beautiful and she cooks.
Staying in and not wanting to drink.
Only wants to go out to movies and ice rinks.
I guess for her that’s the perfect date.
It ain’t bad but it ain’t great.
One more thing I wanna say before this poem is done.
Is that “Good girls ain’t no fun”.