Men! You know not how naïve you are
How we bathe you with our hydraulic power
How we replace ‘Yes’ from your firm ‘No’
With our tears that can easily flow.
You think you can win every battle
But seeing you squirm makes us crackle
At board room, you may have loud sound
But with our tears, you stay on ground.
You strongly detest our shopping a bit
We too abhor your drinking habit
You gossip more than we ever can
It is we, who are busy, rearing your clan.
Sundays, you are stretched lazily in bed
Watching cricket or endless news
With easy tears, we can fool you
And succeed blowing off our holiday blues.
Stay still! Men! At our mercy you are
You cannot win by our wet, wet power.