The gypsy man went down the lane
In sunshine and in rain
Singing his melodious song
All the weary day long
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell
Sweet smiles he had in his bag
And a bright blue flag
Laughter he spread around
In him love abound
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell
The pain in his voice
Was hidden from prying eyes
He filled hearts with cheer
Kids looked to him without fear
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell
At night the lonely gypsy man
Without a friend or fan
Sat helpless and sad
With his arm around his sick lad
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell
after the many times,
you shot my dreams down
after telling me I wont accomplish,
nothing I set out to do.
My Sweet Revenge,
toward you is not violence!
My Sweet Revenge,
is to achieved in everything,
you said I couldn't!
the looks on your faces,
after I've done what you said I couldn't,
is My Sweet Revenge!
Oh, my soul is bare,
like a thorn stinging within my chest.
Beauty surrounds me, yet
I cannot draw pleasure from within.
This Eden that surround me, with
It's magnificent beauty evades me.
I cover, in embarrassment,
For Adam did lie beside me.
Holding me captive in his arms
And I willingly complied.
Oh, my sweet Lord,
For our sweet innocence we grieve.
Now from this garden we must leave.
Is you is or is you ain't
sweetest devil or smoothest saint?
All dressed up in suits and ties
your smile is empty behind those eyes.
Your words drip of sweet honey,
as your mind trips only on money.
Is you is or is you ain't
a lover of women or a pimp to taint
the latest sweet young thang
with empty promises of a ring,
if she'll only come through
with whenever its about you
and your needs getting met
to the latest bimbos' regret.
So, is you is or is you ain't
as we sit at your feet acting all faint
within the charm of your poison ...
girl, you better just run!
Thank you
Keith, Ernesto, Kristin and Diane
Thank you christopher and beyond
I love this soup
Richer than St Elizabeth cow peas
Mannish water or pepperpot
Poetry.com was a bubble in my history
Burst now
I love this family,
O Deborah what a gift
What a Caleb in your tongue
Carolyn sweet as a Irish violin
The little Japanese tea
Served in chinese cup
Thank you
Stacey, Denis, Lena
Karena
Children of a sweeter God
Muse of the okra tongue
Slippery as oil where inspirations run
Under the green sheet of the sun
Laurie, Karen, Brian, Sue
Stacy you too
Orishas of the river woman
Giver to the Shango
Brides, brethren, warrior crew
I am the twister, conniver
The rattle of the drum
You played me
And gentle too,
Lovers are givers and sweet water flows in sweet rivers
Thank you
God for these people, the candles
Of your fireflies
Thank you all for you.
The world seems to thrive on
sugar's debilitating taste.
This sweet drug corrupts the body,
turning good health into diabetic waste.
The sudden burst of pure energy
ebbs within minutes of the tongue's caress.
Sluggish movements crawl through the limbs,
causing physical and emotional duress.
Sugar's addicting kiss spikes the blood,
playing twister with the chemicals inside.
This nectar of man made confection
swallows health within pleasure's temporary tide.
Sugar calls out with lips of sweet passion,
increasing the body's craving for more.
But too many sweets cause a meltdown
within the human body's insulin core.
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