BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND TWITTER BACKGROUNDS »

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Give it here.

"Am sorry. Forgive me"
"What for?"
*long pause*
"Nevermind"


Something about apologies, makes my love come down.

Give it back.
Come again.
Give it back.

Or I just might have to make you sorry, and have to apologize all over again.

Something about apologies makes me want to go to bed.

Give it here.
Make it last.
Say it now.

Or I just might do something crazy, and make you beg me for my mercy.

30/06/2011

ThE inDePENdent WomAN

Independence.

The independent woman.

She pays her bills. All by herself.
Speaks her mind, as she pleases.

She gets going when the going gets tough.

She just always knows how to put it together.

Every man, wants her.
You'll probably find her in a music video, looking fly as ever, making you wish your woman was her... making your lady feel as though she now has an idol...someone to aspire to be.

Independent woman. She'll be there to make your meals, fix the kids up, AND be ready to make the bangest love at sundown, sun-up, and possibly anytime in between.

She'll be flexible enough for all the positions, and to her, you'll be the world.

If ever or when you get down, she'll be your sheet of bounty; your quicker picker upper, cleaning the mess that you happened to be, wiping your tears away, and best yet, not ever, spilling the beans on just how much of a cry baby you can be sometimes.
Hey, she is independent, right? So no need to tell friends about all the little things that goes on between you two.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The poet in me

This past month, has been quite eventful. So much so in fact, that I found myself thinking up words to write on here, on several occassions. However, I have also been so busy, that getting down to writting them, has been almost impossible.

Truth is though, some things are just better left unsaid, and some of the ones that came to mind, I just didnt want to have documented.

So instead, I ignore the feeling that dares me to grab a pen, and I just move on to the next thought instead.

The poet in me, is about to be given a voice. I feel it coming. I feel it coming.