imaxeyes

She hates This Poem, Mustn't Write Anymore


She pushes it, she dishes it out
don't try looking behind that laugh or she'll turn your lights out
She's got an anger of flesh and bone no pina colada's no freakin scones
she's out lookin for love with boxing gloves on
She's proud she knows how to deliver she's got her mind made up and her hair does shimmer
She's got high heels on and a ghost of a smile
look out for her she's walked the eight mile
She's got blood on her tongue and licorice lips when she talks to you watch how she's shakin her hips
She causes friction and diction wherever she walks
you'd better pick up the pace before she picks up the mace
She lights up like light-brite when she sees his face
it's like fireworks and dynamite exploding in space
She looks at me while I'm writing this
I smell perfume and feel it's mist
"My dear," she says, "can you take care of this?"
And I don't know what happens after I feel the first fist

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I wrote this after talking to a girl at school she's got a lot of passion and pride, and deserves a lot more. Hehe, she doesn't have a bf, she doesn't let anyone get too close for too long.