A prostitutes song if you will.I thought about it sitting in class one last week.A twisted love story.
Pretty eyes lure him in, entrancing his mind with thoughts of their sin Follow me she says. Mr. what is your name? I am the one you desire. Mr. you put your women to shame Mr. Passion is built and you say you want the Eiffel Tower Give me your day and I’ll turn it into ours The sweet smell of love intoxicating aroma Mr. Love is an effort I wish not to put forward Energy is all .I don‘t want better or worse Make you fall for me, the making of a tragedy Mr. I can’t tell you how long this game will last Won’t ask you to trust me because trust runs fast But I’m asking you Mr. what your name is? When your heart finally shatters I will not take the blame
This is a sad but lovely piece or work. I enjoyed the way it sways from innocence to indifference and great importance to little care for the act of seduction for ones own desires. I understand much of what you have said. I grew immensely impatient, careless and callous towards men. I feel as though they were a waste of my time - with the exception of my kiddos fathers - they are amazing - thank buddha! I decided to take a sabbatical from relationships in order to gain my self esteem back. Anyways - I just really connected with this piece, thanks for sharing. Also, I am making a private book of poems that really speak to me and I am wondering if I may copy it. I would, of course, give you copyright priveliges and it's really just for me. I would never try to take credit for your writing, however, I would love to have it. Let me know and thanks! peace, balance and harmony - audrie
This Poem is awesome. I've never been intrigued so much by a piece before. You can tell there is more than meets the eye and that adds to the suspense. Great job!
[Give me your day and I’ll turn it into ours] ~Bravo~ Great Line
They call him... Mister Fame. This flame so haloed, with a look. The moves. Baby, this man, knows all the grooves. Flash an Bling, these passions sing... ring a ding that thing, honey. Mister Fame won't accept the blame, only blush through the shame game... as your heart, lays in tatters. Hear the chatter, as he spreads round your name. Talkin whatever, an thats lame.
Hey Mister Shallow talkin trash. Cause trust, ain't the mans middle name...
Ha ha ha, I like it like that, like a Happy Accident waiting to happen... Cool, Write On / Right On. Romon
'Mister'... sorry it bugged me there was 'Mr.' but no name afterwards so you would use 'Mister' but I can see why you would use Mr.... it adds on to the mystery and suspense of the story. Well written yet again, Happy
I like to think that I contribute to society in my own special way.I shower daily,deliver witty blog post (when I feel like it) and recycle .You could call me a loner...well because everyone else does.. more..