Meandering eyes never
fell on such a sight as
when they saw the eyes of a wall.

Hidden beneath the shrubs
endowed naturally as leaves
as artificial as the wall painting she lay, asleep
unmoving despite the cold beating on her feather light clothes.

Nothing could betray her perfect camouflage
till her bright white eyes flew open
and gave way to the slight movement
that turned the meandering eyes
to the curved wall that was her voluptuous body.

Startled sighs that escaped the lips
could never measure to
the sight of a wall come to life
and the shrubs become an
unwelcome choice of a bed
or the stone a pillow.

Suns and moons of years past,
Have taught me the simplicity,
In is, was, here, now, today, tomorrow,

Time spent trying to be better,
Only made me discover that,
Tomorrow, today, now, here, was, is in place,

Reading never made it easier too,
I guess complexity only helps,
In is, was, here, now today, tomorrow,

Making you understand is what i strive,
Each line written shades light on,
Tomorrow, today, now, here, was, is,

Now i pen off feeling proud,
That maybe today simple me,
Is, was, here, now, today, tomorrow.

It is funny how when I say daddy
a smile often spreads forth on my lips
it may be because of the ‘dy’ at the end of daddy
or because I loved you so much

Smiling always reminds me
of how many times yours beckoned to me
you lit up the room with your jokes
and turned a house into a home

Home is no longer home without you
you have been gone too long now
you should be a memory to us now
but you remain the backbone of what you left

You held us close with your loving arms
simplicity was your best suit
yet love was your weakness
for you granted it to us without restraint

The simplicity in our home
is now lost to an empty place
a place you once filled in our hearts
dear daddy.

Don’t listen to the words coming out of my mouth
They are a rehearsal in the mirror everyday
Instead
Listen to the soft whispers of my heart
Telling you ever silent words
In my anger
My lips tell of frustration
In my happiness
My hands tell of a tender love in my soul
In my pain
My eyes tell of hurt
In my distress
My tears plead with you
To please listen
For the burden weighing on my shoulders
Is becoming too heavy to carry
Because you are not listening!

The air
Around her spoke
Of superiority of character
Yet her eyes betrayed the blindness
Of love.

The beautiful mane that was her hair,
Fell graciously on her shoulders,
A pang of envy creeps in,
Am not blind to eye catching things.

My hand flows to my own mane,
And all I find is a poorly growing one,
It doesn’t help that it is ***** brown,
And hers is shiny black.

I wonder what she ate that I didn’t,
For her to have surprisingly beautiful feminine hair,
Contemplating,
I nearly miss the scuffle…

As it turns out,
Other **** sapiens are watching her,
Jealously I must add,
After all, I am not alone!

As if sensing our gawking looks,
She turns her head, this, and that way,
And in that moment of gratification,
The mane that was her hair falls off.

Stunned, I fall down with it,
As I hit my behind on the concrete floor,
I look for spots of blood,
But soon, a hand picks it up,

Alas, it is her hand!
She should be dead because her head,
Was cut off in a jealousy fit,
By a non-forgiving female.

Then it hits me,
It wasn’t her mane after all,
But a wig of sorts,
That is why she resembled Beyoncé,

Or was it Rihanna,
She fumbles to replace her godly look,
But now, I can breathe,
I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t,

It must have been because I realized,
The same ***** brown uncombed short hair,
That graced her clearly ashamed head,
I am not alone after all!