Mathematics was like my punching bag,
allowing me to be violent with equations.
I continued to settle my life
with certain additions and subtractions.

Then I met you,
and you became equivalent to each of them
a postcard with my stamp.

Gentleman,
I won’t bribe you with words,
or tag you as the black sheep of the boyish herd.
But you have Pinocchio's long nose
every time you lie, it grows.
But I’ll adjust; that’s the rose’s way with thorns.

You can be Cinderella with a godfather,
leaving your shoes as you rush from my castle.
I promise, I'll make you my king,
as I want your charm as a blessing.
Your stepfather and stepbrothers won’t strike you
I’ll come to your rescue and rediscover you.

Gentleman,
until I find you, can I file

A missing report with the police?
Meanwhile, I’ll work on my poems
and improve my English.

Na na na,
I’m not cornering you
you’re still my priority.
When you've found,
you'll have the deluxe couch
and servants hopping around.

But to make me your luxury,
you’ll have to multiply what you’ve got.
Chances are, you won’t get tipsy,
on Kingfisher beer cans again.
Because I’m enough
when we reside in the same den.

But love,
Shhhh, shhhh, shh
you can’t roar when you uncover my mysteries.
You’re Cinderella in this den,
and this unusual combination
takes away your right
to show your mood swings like Ben 10
with his ever-changing personalities.

Gentleman,

Let’s watch some animation.

Do you like Ben 10?
No?

Alright then,
let’s see your favorite:
Pinocchio’s nose!

.    .    .