Not Her Fault.

She’ll converse you into something you never thought you would agree to.
She’ll swear she worships you, and then fuck your best friend.
She'll get livid about you looking at porn, yet every schoolboy that strolls passed her she slobbers over.
She'll howl about your breath, but her kitty smells like tuna.
She'll utter shit about your buddies, but flirt with them when they're around.
She will never be of the same mind with anything your mother has to say, but nods her skull to everything your drunken dad says.
She'll never make you feel pleased, yet you're in the depths of despair without her.
She'll make you toss away all of your dreams, so her life is slightly more comfortable.
She'll by no means ever end thinking about other boys.
She'll weep, but believe me, it's just superlative acting.
She'll saunter out one day, with your confidant on her hip, and by hook or by crook she'll persuade you and all others that you were the wrongdoer.
Here is a remark of recommendation:

Fuck it.