PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

(the guy):

"Could ya deal with the fact that you`re up all night, with someone who concentrates on you achieving your heights,

Could ya try to understand, the little freak in your man,

may come out when least expected, there goes your shirt and your pants,

Could ya make love in the dark, on a pier or the park,

in a bedroom, a jeep with headroom, or in the back of ya car,

Could ya wake at 2 a.m.

just to satisfy him,

though you`ve worked all day,

or coming from the club with your friends,

Could ya stand the soft kisses

that will send you to bliss

or this tongue lickin ya back,down to ya crack then ya clit

Could ya fantasize at work, impatiently wanting home,

with freaky thoughts on ya mind, and they`re making you moan

Could ya sit still while in a movie,

though my hand`s on your thigh or with my head between your legs when I ask you to drive,

Could ya learn to be a freak leavin no-one with a clue,

of the kinky little things that we love to do

Could ya handle the sweat as it rolls from your brow,

as you try to catch ya breath is hard closing your mouth

Could ya be with a man not only for sex,

because it`s just that extra bonus my number 1 is RESPECT"



By: Paperchaser



(the girl):

Could you deal with the fact that I`m crazy in love with my man?

Embraced hands, sharing futuristic plans of adopting last

names and exchanging wedding rings...

The things he does for me, no

other can provide,

not even in their wildest dreams,

irreplaceable by all means, and it seems,

the glow of his love out-shadows the sunrise...

Could you try to understand he`s the greatest,

and there`s no contesting it?

And while you`re concentrating on me achieving my heights,

he`s manifesting it...

The little freak in my man is eclipsed by the greater love in my King...

and when least expected, there goes my shirt and pants

in exchange for an eternity diamond ring...

Could I make love in the dark,

on the pier or the park?

Well, how about tasting Heaven from a mere kiss, sweeter than the "Big Apple" of

New York...

There`s no limit to the touches he places on my body...

Caramel, candy-coffee kiss,

twice the bliss you promised...

The feeling from your hands on my thigh is interrupted by the silent touch of his memory,

and your head between my legs while I drive is only pretend to be...

So pretend to see yourself in his shoes...

Could I learn to be a freak leavin no one with a clue?

well, let me ask you...

when you sent me this poetic lie,

why didn`t you attatch the 'truth'?"



Tha Prodigal One...