She came with fire in her eyes,
A stranger with judgment decried.
A rake was I, leaving girls to their plight
But she hadn’t yet seen the full light.

 

She wrote with a voice that saw red,
Of babies and hearts left for dead.
She feared for those girls, the disease, the disgrace—
Yet never had met me, nor looked at my face.

 

But hearts can change with truth and care,
When you meet the heat with open air.
From outrage born, a bond can grow—
More than the angry first hello.

 

I could’ve just clicked her away,
Let her rant be lost in the fray.
But something inside me said try,
She might learn that I’m a good guy.

 

I told her of choices I made,
The ways that I loved and repaid.
No children left trailing behind,
No lies, no masks, just love redefined.

 

I spoke of the time that I take,
Of space that keeps passion awake.
That I love without pulling apart—
Each girl for each time, with all of my heart.

 

But hearts can change with truth and care,
When you meet the heat with open air.
From outrage born, a bond can grow—
More than the angry first hello.

 

She wrote back—raw, unguarded, afraid,
A letter she almost wished she hadn’t made.
But in her soft truth I admired
The courage that she had acquired.

 

And that’s how our story began:
She became not foe, but a fan.
A client, a partner, a friend to the end—
This “dangerous stranger” became my best friend.

 

But hearts can change with truth and care,
When you meet the heat with open air.
From outrage born, a bond can grow—
More than the angry first hello.