Boys

She told us her troubles,
And we said that we cared.
We talked about everything.
Our true feelings were bared.

One thing is boys:
Vicious and cruel.
Never really caring,
Like it's some kind of rule.

They take us for granted,
Like it's some kind of game.
Never showing remorse.
Never taking the blame.

"It's not our fault,"
They always say.
That all they want,
Is sex and to play.

Never staying behind,
To examine the pain.
Never knwing the tears,
Could bring a week's rain.

So to all the men,
Who don't understand.
The pain that we're feeling,
Is all caused by your hand.

Now take these words,
To your black heart:
You'll always be there.
You've done played your part.