Infuriating, Aggravating

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Infuriating, aggravating

But you can’t stop thinking about me

You try & you earnestly try

But you let me become a memory

Now, your man refuses to go down

So, you’re forced to use a toy

You dread the realization

You’ve fallen for a silly boy

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Don’t Worry About All The Little Things

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Don’t worry about all the little things
Mere details in your ongoing existence
The small decorations on your story
Paling in comparison to love’s actual distance
Focus on the sunshine, where happiness lurks
Ignore the naysayers & look towards your time
You’ll shine & blossom into something beyond
So hunker down, prepare your soul for your prime

A Creative Declaration Of Independence

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A creative declaration of independence
We broadcast we won’t go quietly without a fight
Announcing to this fractured society
That, together, we’ll destroy all that isn’t right
The artists & dreamers of the world annex the ether
We claim control of the world’s grasp of our dreams
Through love & imagination, we’ll find a true peace
& we’ll forever disintegrate your hate, right at the seams

I’m Just Trying To Live My Life

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I’m just trying to live my life
Extending some gratitude along the way
Showing the people how I can love
For we never know when it’ll be our last day
I don’t always wake up with a smile
But it’s always easier if I somehow do
Grabbing black coffee & my woman’s ass
Together with a grin; I’m gonna make it through

The Truth About Women’s Feet

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Love wrapped around my mind like a shroud

Full of colors, spectrums & radiant splashes

Not a day without engulfing sunshine

Blinded by pantyhose & false eyelashes

I believed in the fairytale courtships

Sipping champagne from glass slippers

Lovely damsels in need of gentlemen

Revealed to be crude strumpet strippers

My soul could not take this detail

Where was my love with elegant class

Distraught in this new reality

Stuck on feet made for crystal glass

How could my dreams unravel so

This giving me pause to think

Now I understand the truth

That women’s feet actually stink

There Are Many Fancy Writers

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There are many fancy writers
Those who are great, they’ve decided
Elegant illustrations & plunging necklines
But hubris is often one-sided
There are many arrogant writers
Quick with the wit they’ve decried
Moans of pain suited to their fame
Loving with one eye open it’s often implied

Immune To A Power Surge

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Immune to a power surge
I sit alone & quietly type
Not affected by technology
Refuse to be your modern gripe
I switched off my terrestrial radio
But I’ll still pound at these keys
I’m not cool or a trendy guy
I’m reserved, doing as I please
There’s never been an audience
Just a few genuine folks
Sharing myself sparingly
I’m better with these slow strokes
I’ll continue to conjure ideas
Preferring to use my typewriter
Nothing fancy; just a love of words
Old, but I can still pull an all nighter

Hair Pulled Back, Eyes Down

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Hair pulled back, eyes down
To avoid my affectionate stare
You cannot fathom my attraction
& you shoot me an annoyed glare
You don’t feel so pretty
You say you’re not ready for the day
But that never mattered to me
For I’ll continue to love you anyway

I’m Enthralled By The Details Under Your Dress

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I’m enthralled by the details under your dress
I’m focused on lace & the embroidered rose
I’m here to pay attention & relieve your stress
Whispers words that won’t leave your legs closed