She walked into my office,
A visit with purpose,
a game well-played,
The goal clear—to win me over,
A conquest she thought simple.
She’s always been kind to me,
Bringing office tea with a smile,
Offering fruits at lunchtime,
An innocent gesture, so it seemed.
But today was different—Friday.
She came draped in allure,
Her words like honey,
her actions like a dance,
Each move calculated,
each glance deliberate.
She knows I wear a ring,
Yet at 35, she’s free to chase any prize.
But what she doesn’t know,
Is that I hold her 411 like a silent record.
A bad gal she has been,
Devouring life’s offerings without care,
Like a pig at an endless feast.
I watched her, unmoved,
For temptation loses its power
When you know the cost of the game.
