My man has left me
For the woman of his dreams…
He is no longer curios
About the thing that lies way, way
Underneath this wrapper of mine.

My husband has found his girl
And for him I have become
That woman his mama married him
The delicate thing
That stinks like discarded menstrual pad
I have become the dreaded menopause
The child giving machine worthless
Except for the occasional fuck!
I have for him become that thing whose soup
Tastes like fermented urine
Manageable on days he’s low on cash
I have become that thing whose looks
Seems like that of a discarded rag
An appendage of a life unwanted!

My man is gone yet
My kis are here for comfort
I have birthed for him: reuben, simeon and yes Levi
I have become this agonizing carriage
Carried on a back bended with age!
He has met clara…
His Christy has come!
My laboured soup grass
Earned from toils of unwant and despise!

I have become that fake plant
He no longer pretends to water

Our wife has come…
Alas for my longing soul!

To whom do I turn
Despised I cannot 
African in bones culture steeped
I live to fight another life
Clara! Oh clara!
My mans kristi you have become.

The husband of my youth has gone
Fled he has to the bossomed cunt
His rachel his god
His leah his worm
Where do I turn yet?
In me beats a lovers heart
My husband; our husband; kristis boy
My woe!

Hide me you mountains
Flee you maidens of the square
Despised I am in wedlock born
Heart flung to the horses dung
My man no other
Oh my man your rib!
Even if you no longer please
Alas treat me fair earn my keep!

Hearr O ye hills
Hearken to the voice of the despised
The woman here has claimed
The heart of a man tormented wail
The skirts of hers his please
The breasts of hers his keep
This cunt of mine a dredged up woe
Left in memories best forgotten.

Hearr ye women
My shame your shame
My pain your woe
My man has found his heart
In kristis bossom
Alas for my broken soul
Alas for my unhealed wounds
Alas for hopes of yesteryears
Wishing love softly would grow.
Alas for this bemoaned voice
Scary as the cackling of the hyenna
Alas for this dangling feet
Sucked dry of tears to come.

Kristi, what is my oFfense?
Cupid which sacrifice seek you yet?
Virtue availeth not
When but the heart of man we speak.
Woe to you ye gods
Let the shame of the tarnished yours become
Woe to thee all who consumed
This sacrifice given
Woe I lament this day!
Let all hearr
Let all remove their faces from
The folds of wrappers pretense revealed.
Woe yet again! I say woe
Let justice today remain accursed!

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.


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