What makes a lovely lady or a bad Bh as people claim?
Is it that she can twerk Bend it over or "Bust it down" Is it cuz she's ratchet (Hudson brothers/Funky Dineva voice) or How her "humps" (Black eyed peas) or As some say "******* sit right..A so phat perhaps" But what if her figure shows she has no A* at all

Next before I say whats in her head...Let me break down the outsid.  First, can and if her hair can she get some natural love for that. Two for whatever weave or extensions she has can we please extend our knowledge to get to know the higher insides of someone before we seek their lower one's

If she has no or short hair at all can people stop short coming her or give her no respect or decent courtesy at all (ALL Right) Here's the inside part we as females been socialized to have the greatest appearance but unfortunately due to emotional instability and many incapabilities we or some of us Us have no sense of confidence or Endearance

With all this said I go back to that title of this piece Based off a sing called "That thing"

​The city lost in love or simply sold to consumerism
Is as heartfelt as each petal slowly curling to a drooped fall
These flowers mean love like blue means cold
We want them because it's what we're told
And he buys them because he'll lose lust tonight otherwise
Yes one day they might together grow old
But not because of today this gesture given
The gift that conforms is not so bold
No strength built in surrender to society
Trust not earned in prompted acts of endearance
And respect for independence is gone
For a life lived by public calendar is not yours
So whose thoughts do those roses hold?

I took a walk with God tonite.
She was as bright and lovely as the streetlights, as misty and ominious as the nightly grass, and as beautiful as the stars.
Sometimes she liked to be like the constellations, sometimes she liked to be like him, but this night- they all had embraced. I never would have to let that go.

I took a drive with God. We sang to the top of our lungs; all of our little love songs. It sounded like death- slashing strings, clashing cymbals, and vicious vocals- but we knew it to be peace. We talked of our horrible driving as we let our hand steer the wheel. The silence between songs was welcomed, *****, and nothing more than yearned for. We filled it with lovely daydream.

I took a chance with God. I looked up and heard the wisdom in their name every day. I cashed in my faith, I let go the err to the air, and I offered and reached for hands in hopes they'd take it too. I followed his lead and weathered his storm and I found calm between. A sailor whistling with each and every wave.

Part of God died what feel like some decade ago.
She my loss, my gain, my grief, my strife, my pain.
My lack of spirit,
my loving endearance.
She- my determination, my heart, my unwavering image.
My mother.
My child.
He- my north star, my guardian angel, my astral shepherd.
My father.
My wild.
It- my compass and my map and my path stained with tears.
My mind.
My truth.
My guide to divine.
Stood alone, I hear it, I taste it, I smell it, I see it, I feel it.
They- my love, my family, my word, my God, my soul-
but entirely,
my self.