The Truth

In search for love, may he find the right one She walked, she strolls, she arrived quarter to two One foolish man running till three But yet she’ll never budge with great power for four Almost to the middle, with not intentions of meeting The time hit six, with the sun gleaming He or she never crossed the seventh path Which the eight can be revealed with a tremendous wrath He imagines to catch her and take her for a ride Though she assured him she will be her bride The time is twelve, what a shocking sound Then he got up, there he was in bed and bound