February 1, 2009
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It ain't all honeysuckles and sweet dreams
Sometimes there are the clashes of clouds prior to the Sun's gleam
Figuring that there a million ways I could love you
Seeing the truth, with it, wisdom I stayed glued.
With enough Jazz to break my Blues.
With enough texture to bring color to my hue
Dealing with those emotions Improvisations provoking
Me to be free, breaking my style from its leash
And like a leech Sucking me dry'

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writingis4ever said...
Feb. 18, 2009 at 4:36 am
wow this poem is great! i love your word choice!
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