My Angelic Flower
Playing Peek-A-Boo through the bushes.
I see a daisy, a damsel in distress, I wonder to myself;
a flower that has never been caressed.
Shadows growing from broken plastic,
once before a friend use to say,
we can never escape the lunar eclipse of desirable silicone acid;
formed into a solid that can't be unborn.
You picked me and masked me,
to get into my foul places of your fingertip that
so gently runs down the backside of my stems.
You play this music with your tongue.
Yet I hear the screams, the excitement of pleasure,
but I don't quite understand; it's from a foreign land.
Your gestures are quite gullible,
but that seafoam that you wrap me in; coats my body in leather.
I'm a Daisy fast dressing dashing girl,
that likes to be dressed in feathers.
Take me by the hand and dance with me,
you make me so light, but I know your so clever.
Fake sounds having you guided by my name,
yet you call me to only pose on one knee.
I say yes and yes and you call me your angelic flower,
the rose petals and nothing but the best.
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Mafi Grey
I went through a lot of hard life situations, but it never stopped me from trying to make something of myself. Currently, I'm following my dream to become a chef and on the side is the passion I hold deep for poetry. I hope you enjoy my art and my poems. Oh, just one more thing, please comment as much as you can. It motivates me to write, when I have an audience behind me. Also, It really shows when a person responds to my quotes or poems can make you feel that special feeling saying you really can do what you can do. I mean it's like a painter who puts his new work in the gallery for display for all to see, and then turns around to see 10 to 20 people standing around trying to figure out his inspiration, his thoughts, and what lead him there? I love when a person understands me and when their trying to dissect my thoughts. Also, when my work of art can help others cope with their monsters and to help a person become inspired. Thanks a lot. I grew up without a father, but that never stop me from becoming a man; yet I thought life would be easy but it wasn't. The pain that I grew up with was hard, but the thought that grew with inside me was even harder. Could I be a good father, could I contain the pain; could I even forget or could I be something better than what he tried to be. Before I knew it, I woke up a man with pain in his knees, with hair on his face; even with sweat, tears, and blood on his sleeves. The lost of hair, the responsibility of having faith in you and where I worked my hands far pass there capabilities. I believe that I'm a pretty fine man and that one day that I will love my children as mush as my father and mother did... Me and my friend has a group, he does music, rap, making beats, and videos. I help out there and here for the music, raps, and videos. I used to rap myself and we go way back. I join the team and he wants me to lead the poetry side and I agreed. If anyone wants to join, then email me at [email protected] and I'll see what you got. Check out my page: https://www.facebook.com/MafiThePoet
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