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A Stipulative Discovery
(Idle hands are Satan’s work shop)
People don’t understand…
How fragile they are…
Not doing good by far…
(Like a sweet restraint…I see us)
To become accepted is like…
The main appetizer in a meal…
Love bad or good is real…
A body acceptance of entry…
To forbidden places of it’s owner…
Crying out in whispers…
Saying is that me?
Oh how lovely I am ….
How can this touch…this kiss…
Mean so much to me…
From where are these feeling…
Coming…
Mother never mention to me…
Concerning such un-spoke… of places…
The…sensation…
Wow…My body is amazing…
The reason for thinking one is in love…
I still cannot understand…
There is much of me to protect…
For I am…Queen…
Every man’s dream…
Stop man’s plot…
Trespass me not…
My relationship shall and will not…
Be a blot…
Respect of me is more then…
A marry-go-round ride…
I am self pride…
I am woman…
The gift to man…
Respect my whole being…
Or just keep on walking…
Whisperkwane@gmail.com
poem
by
whisperkwane Lamb
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