I’m told that honesty
Is a cuff to imprison one
Like in a hit and run.
So i dare speak of none to you.
But tonight it is true.
I am enamored too, i know.
I feel my insides glow
When hand in hand we go about.
My heart begins to pout.
My little boy comes out to play.
Angels approve and sway
To rhythms we display in tune
When in love we commune.
For love would have come soon to me
If eyes of friends could see
And never disagree to dare.
Each day I stand in awe
to understand the law and life.
The high notes with its fife.
Tears look like water’s wife and child,
Mirrors showing the wild,
telling images mild and sad.
Things look pure like the ad
but get stained with the bad raindrops
Water is pure to crops,
with roots taught the ups around.
Highs and lows of the ground,
secret doors to be found with light.
godliness is the height
When clean thoughts grow so bright and true.
To heaven you’d pull through
with them your good page, crew and boat.
You do not want to know,
Why my eyes sink so low tonight.
My dark has glimpsed the light,
Both feet have found the right to walk.
My voice, the will to talk.
For some, I am the chalk of bored,
‘A drown your sorrows gourd,’
Where all their heart-ache poured, for life!
But I also need space to knife,
The feelings that bring strife to me.
My heart is a vast sea,
That wants to roam free and dream.
Let’s dwell more on the theme,
Maybe we blow more steam to it.
Find answers we can eat,
Honesty that can meat our quest.
Honesty is not true,
Not every leg wears shoe,check it
Some agreements still quit.
This you might not admit,trust me
Zuma is also bee,
Can’t force you to agree. Can i
be honest with you? Guy,
Not all blows give black eyes. Easy.
Love is sometimes breezy.
Sometimes we are sleazy. Get lost
And wasted, even post.
Regardless of the frost we cheap
In words we sow and reap
Afterwards fall asleep trying
To make amends crying
How to sell this buying,at once.
May I stand on a plain?
Can we jettison pain of words?
Can we play the true chords?
Pain is all truth affords all times
Its bell comes with sad chimes
The words come with weird rhymes, they sting
Likes stones from David’s sling.
I’ve seen the pain they bring for real
No doubts, our hearts still feel
A poet’s words aren’t the deal, trust this.
They come with a sham bliss,
But the plain I stand is on truth,
The truth from a “phone booth”.
Yes, my wife’s name is Ruth, that’s white,
But, I’m where wrong looks bright,
Vows don’t always look right after