God made woman gentle as a dove, With a heart created to give her love. It's said she was fashioned from part of him, Yet how some are treated comes from sin. He can lift a car, he can move a tree, But givin birth, that's a mystery. Women may talk a little too much, While some men go silent and lose their touch. She wants his attention, his laughter, his time, A hand reaching over and finding hers in the night. She cuddles, caresses, and giggles galore, While some turn cold and walk out the door. But there are men who are gentle and kind, Who walks not three steps ahead or three behind. With a slow hand, they walk love's line, Knowing her strength doesn't threaten their pride. They cherish the woman God fashioned that day, Not beneath them, not behind them, beside them all the way. A beautiful creature, tender and strong, Who carried life's heartbeat inside her so long. Oh, she may never lift a car or a tree, But don't ever mistake that for frailty. For every man who has walked this earth Came through the body of a woman at birth. So measure your muscles and brag of your worth, Lift every damn tree you can find on this earth. But there's one little challenge before you boast, Try giving birth. Then we'll talk.
