Italian Mystery
I’m a Jamaican man, wondering about this Italian Mystery
She’s oh so beautiful, and I’m dying to know all her history
Talked to her online, and now we’re meeting face to face
All the words I once knew, have now vanished without a trace
She about as tall as me, boy am I not a midget
Standing strong and confident, managing not to fidget
Her eyelids hang low, her pupils play hide and seek
Got me guessing what she thinking whenever she speak
Voice light and sweet, but carries heavy demand
Smiles big and bright, until I reach out for her hand
She got jokes from a riddle book, it’s such a shame
Makes me worried she’ll beat me at my own game
She lives her life for Christ, a daughter of God
At the gates of heaven, we know she’ll get the nod
Her personality’s addicting, is this a Godly drug
Ask me if there’s even a such thing…….now I shrug..
Playful, sexy, and serious, yes all three in one
Skills, powers, and tricks, no I’m still not done
What’s with this Italian, how did she come about
Solving this riddle, makes me wanna dance and shout
The answer to all this is simple, cause now it’s for me
I’m gonna keep it a secret, since it’s my Italian Mystery
Copyright © Steven Dean | Year Posted 2013
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