Wifely Groomed Poem by Folorunsho Ahmed adekunle

I was trap into love, what an ambush!
I was loudly muted.
Cause her money speaks, while I looked,
Indeed a weak lion, I wasn't the head.

She wins the bread often,
From her pocket I spend.
"You want to be rude? "
Says my idol, my head beneath.

She was egotistically grooved,
Yet i couldn't scorn you next.
What a wifely groom!
On money the love rest.

"Madam! madam! ! hope you good? "
Humbly said figurehead.
She was wifely groomed,
Cause I failed to win the bread.

By Folorunsho Ahmed Adekunle