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A collection of poetry that has recieved four stars or more at writing.com |
Broken glass on wet pavement street lights shine truth to eyes so used to the darkness she looks through a world bent into illusory submission watching the dope boys unlock their hooks and roll their lures as peace pipes are sparked, so are conversations about thighs if she loves to fly, and can she drive stick she giggles with giddiness as her mind loosens her hips move to the beat and her forehead glistens with sweat, the product of dewy summers in the southern playa is it dope a lucious angel so comfortable after a smoke And eyes light up with bright ideas about ways to bring a woman to tears and not be put in the pen for sex offenses Codes shot through glances one speaks of a place notorious for late night dances and the other talks of fire water in cool basements and as she loses herself in contingency I am worn with complacency knowing that what will follow is a story for basketball courts in the afternoon part of me wants to end this the other screams let them finish because her emergence from the womb was not that soon plus her hips indicate that somone from her womb slipped and left alone at grandma's while panties get ripped and her eyes, which never can tell lies seem to know that the thin layer of plastic can alter others perceptions and her deception is that she is not a conquest but another loving the rank smell of unprotected sex mixed with calming the voice inside her head telling her she is not worthy of being loved by a man She glances at me, and lets me know I can join too and I shake my head cause I'm not that type of dude through my reluctance, and awakening emerge because it was not out of inexperience or that I didn't have the nerve but a level of sentient respect shown bright through the night and I respectfully said my good nights neither drunk nor horny after the club spoke to her as if she was a human being and not an activity seeing that there are still men with decency who treat women like queens and not like objects only to be seen and not heard and not loved but just casted to the side and when someone ask why they say they was drunk or high and not because they was in love with her smile and her eyes when they brightened they drove me wild I said my goodbyes and none wanted me to leave cuzzin passing dutchie in a Master's box and inquiring my presence in seven days for another afternoon of spades then bar hopping till we go back to the club and then blaze I said we'll see what the wind may blow, two fingers retired Piece and I got into my regular looking sudan and drove freely she ask who is he they say he's cool peeps Uncle in the game works hard and always there when you need illusion changed as her desires became inquisition and the guy who was just aight became diamond rough glistenin she thought all these guys with their rims and candy paint trim all showing favor to a guy who acts like he has nothing yet in his eyes is contentment he paid me no attention and that's when she realized that her spirits were shattered beside the glass aforementioned To understand my words, you must understand my mind. To understand my mind, you must first understand my words. Balik737 To understand my words, you must understand my mind. To understand my mind, you must first understand my words. Balik737 |