Why you ought to leave her (Another version for other people)!

She remembers it all, all trifles and trivia
And ranks among the best of the intelligesia
Your every opinion is subject to her scrutiny
She knows of each pact, knows each mutiny
She demands equality of body and spirit
And has thousand citations in her ambit
If life is a chessboard, she knows all gambits
And wins without fail, for she never submits
She cares not about your desires or dreams
Her life is the center of the world (it seems)
She is not brought up to be easily satisfied
She seeks the moon and is never gratified
She mulls in moods that she calls freedom
Toys with ideas of inducting you into serfdom
Her eyelashes obey the planned ploys of her heart
She speaks in puns, with satire her phrases start

She loves your praise, lusts for your soul too
And dismisses your passions as unpure, untrue
What can satisfy her is the most difficult to possess
She seeks Einstein in head and Hercules in undress
She contrasts your each word to the best ever spoken
And unaccomplished feats are always promises broken
But most of all, you are spineless, and you exist in vain
If for her you give it all, if for her you adapt or abstain
Your each act is governed by the influences on history
And your present is scaled by what it offers to posterity
Even bestial desires in her are tamed by religious fervor
The higher good of humanity is required to get her favor
She knows anatomy, medicine, and politics for good
And chides household chores from her childhood

She can sweep you off your feet, she can mystify you
She can work magic with words, she can glorify you
She will manage your life and accounts to perfection
No nothing will ever escape her erudite attention
And by her very nature she will always be a control freak
And tell you mind your own business in Latin and Greek
She can love, but her love will compete with her reason
Every emotional upheavel will be subjected with her derision
She will be by your side, but fear of her leaving will remain
For she will never show whatever she goes on in her big brain
She is poetry, a prized possession, the pride or a source of inspiration
But a perfect wife, never my friend, never in your wildest imagination
Make her friend, connect to her on the platonic ground
But never tangle in her love, for never it will unwound
Never will you accomplish enough to become her dreamt one
So run like hell my friend, if you are falling for like this someone!

(Incomplete)