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Ps3 Poem

funny poem its about a ps3 game on mw3 and me wanting my ps3 back

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Its About Time

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the its about time album, and has also been released on the country classics album.
Theres a full moon over india and gandhi lives again
Whos to say you have to lose for someone else to win
In the eyes of all the people the look is much the same
For the first is just the last one when you play a deadly game
Its about time we realize it were all in this together
Its about time we find out its all of us or none
Its about time we recognize it these changes in the weather
Its about time, its about changes and its about time
Theres a light in the vatican window for all the world to see
And a voice cries in the wilderness and sometimes he speaks for me
I suppose I love him most of all when he kneels to kiss the land
With his lips upon our mothers breast he makes his strongest stand
Its about time we start to see it the earth is our only home
Its about time we start to face it we cant make it here all alone
Its about time we start to listen to the voices in the wind
Its about time, its about changes and its about time
Theres a man who is my brother, I just dont know his name
But I know his home and family because I know we feel the same
And it hurts me when hes hungry and when his children cry
I too am a father and that little one is mine
Its about time we begin to turn the world around
Its about time we start to make it the dream weve always known
Its about time we start to live the family of man
Its about time, its about changes and its about time
Its about peace and its about plenty and its about time
Its about you and me together and its about time
Words by john denver, music by john denver and glen d hardin

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Let This One Poem Be About Me

Let this one poem be just about me
Let this one poem engulf all my beauty
Let this one poem define my soul
Let this one poem consume me whole
My soul was earth bound
And my heart lay in a place that it would never be found
Let this poem be what entangles my mind
Let this poem be where people will find
They will find that missing link
And this poem it will make them think
They will wonder how this girl came
They will wonder how I avoided fame
I didn’t write these words to please
I wrote these words to tease
My heart it’s the type that beckons for ease
And my taste will not accept the flavor of peas
Let this poem describe me in most simplest of ways
Let this poem show how I get through these days
And I know people will read this and say…
This girl she knew where heart lay…
Let this poem eat me whole
Let me entire heart bleed its luscious love into a broken bowl
My soul wanted only to be free
And this poem only pushed it back into me
I never will lose any part of my soul
Because then this world will swallow my inner being whole
Let this poem be what I hate
Let this poem describe with who I would mate
Let this thoughts become my ways
Let this poem be where I stray
Let this poem show how I lie
Let this poem describe how I will die
Yes I am human I cannot avoid death
Yes I am human I chose not to use meth
These words they dance upon this page
These words they have no age
These verses have lost all meaning
Because I revealed my demeaning
Let this poem describe what I deem right
Let this poem that I will always fight
My age floats through these words
And people will never understand why I want to be heard
Let this poem be only about me
Let this poem be what sets me free
And I know some day people will look at this and say…
This girl, this girl she knew exactly where her heart lay…

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Its All In The Game

Many a tear has to fall
But its all in the game
All in the wonderful game
That we know as love
You had words with him
And your futures looking dim
But these things your heart can rise above
Once in a while he wont call
But its all in the game
Soon hell be there by your side
With a small bouquet
And hell kiss your lips
And caress your fingertips
And your heart will fly away
You had words with him
And your futures looking dim
But these things your heart can rise above
Once in a while he wont call
But its all in the game
Soon hell be there by your side
With a small bouquet
And hell kiss your lips
And caress your fingertips
And your heart will fly away

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You May Know A Lot About Your Favourite Game

You may know a lot about your favourite game
And from your commentaries and writings on it you know of wealth and fame
But there's more to life than talking of and writing of football
And about other things you seem to know little at all
By the followers of football your type are well known
And they look up to you as one in a class of your own
They well may be happy your praises to sing
For football to them is an important thing
But by other than me it has been said before
That football is just a game that and little more
For many from life's cares a brief getaway
To cheer on their team in the game of the day
And you football writer and commentator and sporting celebrity
You may seem enlightened to many but not so to me.

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Its About Time

Do you remember the first time
You got to feeling this way
Do you remember the first time
That you felt the way you feel today
You ought to know if you love her completely
You ought to know if you want her back
If you dont have a love thats complete now
Its about time you had
Its about time
Time ,time , time, time
When you can tell by her heartbeat
She wants to love you all night
But can you read all the love signs
You know when she feels its alright
You ought to know if you love her completely
You ought to know if you want her back
If you dont have a love thats complete now
Its about time you had
Its about time
Do you remember the first time
You got to feeling this way
Do you remember the first time that you felt
The way you felt today
You ought to know if you love her completely
You ought to know if you want her back
If you dont have a love thats complete now
Its about time you had
Its about time

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This Poem Is About Agitation

What is this poem about?
And...
What are the poetic devices used?

'Huh?
I remember a timepeople used their minds,
With a thinking process curious enough to research...
For an understanding.

We live in those times when dictionaries are no longer used.
And there are those receiving diplomas and degrees,
From reputable schools...
Who neither can read or write.
But brag about pledging to sororities and fraternities,
And partying day end and all through the night.

What is this poem about?
And the poetic devices used?

This poem is about agitation and another's applied laziness.
It is about those offended when confronted by the truth.
And those who can not prove they have an ounce of intelligence...
Attempting to influence those who do.
Or...
Find they can compete in areas with limited interest,
But discover they can rise to heights...
Based upon the quality of their theft! '

Thank you.
I think I'll just continue using what you have written,
As a basis for my own creations.

'You're kidding?
Really? '

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Its About You

This aint about the things Ive done
Where Ive been or what I won
Stand on your corner a thousand time
Lose what I got keep what I find
Its about you
Its about you
This aint about the things you say
Or how you make me feel this way
Stand on your corner a thousand time
Lose what I got keep what I find
Its about you
Its about you
And when I get this feeling
Its hard for me to come back down
And when I get this feeling
Its hard for me to come back down
And I could be
That everything you need
And I know this could be
That free fall back to me
This aint about the things Ive done
Where Ive been or what I won
Stand on your corner a thousand time
Lose what I got keep what I find
Its about you
Its about you
Its about you
Its about you
And when I get this feeling
Its hard for me to come back down
And when I get this feeling
Its hard for me
Cause I could be
That everything you need
And I know this could be
That free fall back to me
But keeping you aint easy
With everyone that sees me
Telling me get back on the ground
It never could be easy
Instead of you just pleasing me
Youre keeping me down
And I know this could be
That freefall
Come on jump to me

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Its About Time

I used to be a famous artist
Proud as I could be
Struggling to express myself
For the whole world to see
I used to blow my mind sky high
Searching for the lost elation
Little did I know the joy I was to find
In knowing I am only me
Im singin in my heart
Im singin in my heart
Im singin love to sing
I love to sing it from my heart
Oh the creation yeah
Of a good time doin my part
With an open-hearted laugh of realization in my mind
And now Im but a child who art
Erect in humility
Serving out a love for everyone I meet
In truth who are really me
Im singin in my heart
Im singin in my heart
Im singin love to sing
I love to sing it from my heart
No-no-no no no
Hoo no hey yeah no-no-no-no
Its about time now its about time now
Its about time now dont you know now
Its about time now its about time now
Its about time now dont you know now
Its about time we get together
To be out front and love one another
Brothers sisters everybody
We better start to help each other now
We need it now
When were sharin our love brother
Thats when we know we can shape another world
Lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord
Oooh lord
Lord lord lord lord lord oh oh
Oh no lord no no oh

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Its About Time

(ronnie scott/ steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: ronnie scott, steve wolfe
Recorded in 1978 as a b-side to hey love (its a feelin). lyrics taken from careful listening.
Its about time
We stopped foolin around
cause I cant go on loving like this
Its about time
You got closer to me
Its alright for a while
But were more than a mile apart
Are we just playing at lovers
Doing the right thing to do
Im always running for cover
When I ought to be running to you
Sometimes youre more like a stranger
And baby I think Ive lost you
Feels like Im heading for danger
When I ought to be heading for you
Its about time
We stopped foolin around
cause I cant go on loving like this
Are we just playing at lovers
Doing the right thing to do
Im always running for cover
When I ought to be running to you
Sometimes youre more like a stranger
And baby I think Ive lost you
Feels like Im heading for danger
When I ought to be heading for you
Its about time
We stopped foolin around
cause I cant go on loving like this
Its about time
You got closer to me
Its alright for a while
But were more than a mile apart
Stop foolin around
Get closer to me
Im always running for cover
What youre doing to me
Its about time
More than a stranger
Its alright for a while
But were more than a mile apart

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Its About That Walk

{crowd noise}
Mmm-mmm!
Oooh-wee!
Fellas would u look at that thing
Have u ever...?
U just got back from paris
U probably went to buy some clothes
Ure on your way to nells in new york
Gonna meet who? heaven knows
But it aint about where ure comin
It aint about where u go
It aint about who uve been with
cuz it aint about who u know
Its about that walk - can we talk about it?
Its about that walk - I wanna shout about it
Oooh-wee!
Your ass like a fine cut diamond
Mounted on 2 legs of stone
The prison I could do some time in
If I ever got that ass alone
But 4 now Ill just keep my shirt on
cuz I aint about losin cool
[cuz it] aint about losin sleep, 4 that matter
Baby, that nothin that I do
Its about that walk - I wanna talk about it
Its about that walk - I wanna shout about it
Oh-wee
Oh yeah baby
[anything else let me do that work, shake it] (ooh)
Mmm, mmm-mmm!
Fellas have u ever...?
It aint about where ure comin
It aint about where u go
It aint about who uve been with
cuz [...] who u know
Its about that walk, yeah - I wanna talk about it
Baby, baby, baby about the walk - ooh shout about it, shout about it
Oooh-wee!
Oh lord, lord
Girl u know u got the walk
Girl u know I got the talk
Run
Lord I mercy...
Eyh!
Keep playing
Ugh!
Vegas on a c
Ooh-[wha-wha...]
Remember bout that ending?
On the one
Ugh!

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It’s About God

It’s all about The Lord, my God, I can say with a confident nod,
The One, Who sits above the sky, directs the path of you and I,
As this world is in His hands, a Truth not everyone understands,
For with God they’re at enmity, blinded by God’s eternal enemy.

Yet this enemy has been overcome, by God’s Only Eternal Son,
But he still deceives each nation, keeping them from Revelation,
God’s Word, which lasts eternally, in which man will gain victory,
When their eyes are open to see, in Christ, they will live eternally.

Friend, today Christ is in control, of every nation and every soul,
My God can overrule Satan’s call, to save lost men from the fall,
But they need to personally believe, in Christ, as Lord to receive,
Eyes to see God’s Truth and Light, to be rescued from the night.

Today God’s desire for everyone, is to come to Truth in His Son,
Truth, that leads us to salvation, found in God’s Holy Revelation,
Today, with Christ in control, God gives us a choice for our soul,
To listen to His Son’s instruction, or follow Satan, to destruction.

It’s about God, not you or me, Who, in Christ, gives life eternally,
It is Christ, The Eternal Creator, Who God sent, to be The Savior;
We serve God or Satan, His foe, and The Lord wants all to know,
In lieu of death, God offers us life, in His Only Son, Jesus Christ.

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Prosody?

Prosody:
it’s about - it means - what poetry does,
and how. I guess..
In Greek, it just means ‘tune’. That
should give a clue. In Latin,
the word they used meant
‘song added to speech’.

So ‘poetry’ is pretty well
indefinable. It’s – well—
whatever it means to you.
And how the hell it does that. There
are rules but,
it finds its own. For
one thing above all
really matters: poetry is
what it does. What it does. If
it doesn't do anything for you
that's it. No theories –
just that. Be glad.

Aristotle tried to help
with his ‘Poetics’. Good on drama.
But poetry? Let’s fast forward to
Ezra Pound: poetry’s function is, he said,
‘to charge words with meaning
to the utmost possible degree’.

Now put all this together and
I believe it’s saying,
poetry’s not - never was -
shouldn’t be - couldn’t be -
just words on the page, like this, but, it's
me saying them to you, strongly, here and now,
charging them with meaning
to the utmost possible degree..

So if your child comes home with
as homework, ‘Analyse this poem by..’
- Angelou, Silverstein, Neruda,
Hughes of both hues black and white,
Milligan, Budowski, Pralutsky –
tell them, go back tomorrow and say
politely, ‘Teach, Dad’s a practising poet and
he says, why not have a class comp in
reading that poem aloud, and who
makes most sense of it and keeps us
listening down to the
tips of our toes; and by the time
we’ve all had a go and decided
who’s the best, we’ll remember it
for the rest of our lives and maybe, Teach,
not need to ‘analyse’ it much and
only after that? '

So here’s to the next poem
that you read aloud, or write to read aloud,
charging it with meaning
to the utmost possible degree.

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Kaddish, Part I

Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on
the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village.
downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I've been up all night, talking,
talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues
shout blind on the phonograph
the rhythm the rhythm--and your memory in my head three years after--
And read Adonais' last triumphant stanzas aloud--wept, realizing
how we suffer--
And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember,
prophesy as in the Hebrew Anthem, or the Buddhist Book of An-
swers--and my own imagination of a withered leaf--at dawn--
Dreaming back thru life, Your time--and mine accelerating toward Apoca-
lypse,
the final moment--the flower burning in the Day--and what comes after,
looking back on the mind itself that saw an American city
a flash away, and the great dream of Me or China, or you and a phantom
Russia, or a crumpled bed that never existed--
like a poem in the dark--escaped back to Oblivion--
No more to say, and nothing to weep for but the Beings in the Dream,
trapped in its disappearance,
sighing, screaming with it, buying and selling pieces of phantom, worship-
ping each other,
worshipping the God included in it all--longing or inevitability?--while it
lasts, a Vision--anything more?
It leaps about me, as I go out and walk the street, look back over my shoulder,
Seventh Avenue, the battlements of window office buildings shoul-
dering each other high, under a cloud, tall as the sky an instant--and
the sky above--an old blue place.
or down the Avenue to the south, to--as I walk toward the Lower East Side
--where you walked 50 years ago, little girl--from Russia, eating the
first poisonous tomatoes of America frightened on the dock
then struggling in the crowds of Orchard Street toward what?--toward
Newark--
toward candy store, first home-made sodas of the century, hand-churned ice
cream in backroom on musty brownfloor boards--
Toward education marriage nervous breakdown, operation, teaching school,
and learning to be mad, in a dream--what is this life?
Toward the Key in the window--and the great Key lays its head of light
on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the
sidewalk--in a single vast beam, moving, as I walk down First toward
the Yiddish Theater--and the place of poverty
you knew, and I know, but without caring now--Strange to have moved
thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again,
with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstops doors and dark boys on
the street, firs escapes old as you
--Tho you're not old now, that's left here with me--
Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe--and I guess that dies with
us--enough to cancel all that comes--What came is gone forever
every time--
That's good!That leaves it open for no regret--no fear radiators, lacklove,
torture even toothache in the end--
Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul--and the lamb, the soul,
in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change's fierce hunger--hair
and teeth--and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin,
braintricked Implacability.
Ai! ai!we do worse! We are in a fix!And you're out, Death let you out,
Death had the Mercy, you're done with your century, done with
God, done with the path thru it--Done with yourself at last--Pure
--Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before us all--before the
world--
There, rest.No more suffering for you.I know where you've gone, it's good.
No more flowers in the summer fields of New York, no joy now, no more
fear of Louis,
and no more of his sweetness and glasses, his high school decades, debts,
loves, frightened telephone calls, conception beds, relatives, hands--
No more of sister Elanor,--she gone before you--we kept it secret you
killed her--or she killed herself to bear with you--an arthritic heart
--But Death's killed you both--No matter--
Nor your memory of your mother, 1915 tears in silent movies weeks and
weeks--forgetting, agrieve watching Marie Dressler address human-
ity, Chaplin dance in youth,
or Boris Godunov, Chaliapin's at the Met, halling his voice of a weeping Czar
--by standing room with Elanor & Max--watching also the Capital
ists take seats in Orchestra, white furs, diamonds,
with the YPSL's hitch-hiking thru Pennsylvania, in black baggy gym skirts
pants, photograph of 4 girls holding each other round the waste, and
laughing eye, too coy, virginal solitude of 1920
all girls grown old, or dead now, and that long hair in the grave--lucky to
have husbands later--
You made it--I came too--Eugene my brother before (still grieving now and
will gream on to his last stiff hand, as he goes thru his cancer--or kill
--later perhaps--soon he will think--)
And it's the last moment I remember, which I see them all, thru myself, now
--tho not you
I didn't foresee what you felt--what more hideous gape of bad mouth came
first--to you--and were you prepared?
To go where?In that Dark--that--in that God? a radiance? A Lord in the
Void?Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream?Adonoi at last, with
you?
Beyond my remembrance! Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow skull
in the grave, or a box of worm dust, and a stained ribbon--Deaths-
head with Halo?can you believe it?
Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence,
than none ever was?
Nothing beyond what we have--what you had--that so pitiful--yet Tri-
umph,
to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower--fed to the
ground--but made, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe,
shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth
wrapped, sore--freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless.
No flower like that flower, which knew itself in the garden, and fought the
knife--lost
Cut down by an idiot Snowman's icy--even in the Spring--strange ghost
thought some--Death--Sharp icicle in his hand--crowned with old
roses--a dog for his eyes--cock of a sweatshop--heart of electric
irons.
All the accumulations of life, that wear us out--clocks, bodies, consciousness,
shoes, breasts--begotten sons--your Communism--'Paranoia' into
hospitals.
You once kicked Elanor in the leg, she died of heart failure later.You of
stroke.Asleep?within a year, the two of you, sisters in death.Is
Elanor happy?
Max grieves alive in an office on Lower Broadway, lone large mustache over
midnight Accountings, not sure.His life passes--as he sees--and
what does he doubt now?Still dream of making money, or that might
have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Im-
mortality, Naomi?
I'll see him soon.Now I've got to cut through to talk to you as I didn't
when you had a mouth.
Forever.And we're bound for that, Forever like Emily Dickinson's horses
--headed to the End.
They know the way--These Steeds--run faster than we think--it's our own
life they cross--and take with them.

Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, mar-
ried dreamed, mortal changed--Ass and face done with murder.
In the world, given, flower maddened, made no Utopia, shut under
pine, almed in Earth, blamed in Lone, Jehovah, accept.
Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless,
Father in death.Tho I am not there for this Prophecy, I am unmarried, I'm
hymnless, I'm Heavenless, headless in blisshood I would still adore
Thee, Heaven, after Death, only One blessed in Nothingness, not
light or darkness, Dayless Eternity--
Take this, this Psalm, from me, burst from my hand in a day, some
of my Time, now given to Nothing--to praise Thee--But Death
This is the end, the redemption from Wilderness, way for the Won-
derer, House sought for All, black handkerchief washed clean by weeping
--page beyond Psalm--Last change of mine and Naomi--to God's perfect
Darkness--Death, stay thy phantoms!

II
Over and over--refrain--of the Hospitals--still haven't written your
history--leave it abstract--a few images
run thru the mind--like the saxophone chorus of houses and years--
remembrance of electrical shocks.
By long nites as a child in Paterson apartment, watching over your
nervousness--you were fat--your next move--
By that afternoon I stayed home from school to take care of you--
once and for all--when I vowed forever that once man disagreed with my
opinion of the cosmos, I was lost--
By my later burden--vow to illuminate mankind--this is release of
particulars--(mad as you)--(sanity a trick of agreement)--
But you stared out the window on the Broadway Church corner, and
spied a mystical assassin from Newark,
So phoned the Doctor--'OK go way for a rest'--so I put on my coat
and walked you downstreet--On the way a grammarschool boy screamed,
unaccountably--'Where you goin Lady to Death'? I shuddered--
and you covered your nose with motheaten fur collar, gas mask
against poison sneaked into downtown atmosphere, sprayed by Grandma--
And was the driver of the cheesebox Public Service bus a member of
the gang?You shuddered at his face, I could hardly get you on--to New
York, very Times Square, to grab another Greyhound--

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Everson II

This poem kis about the worth of your wealth,
And like the muse of your love in the garden of peace;
But, i am Everson who just got the smell of the aroma of your love.
You worth my love amd i also have my wealth to present to you,
So, try to understand my creativity;
For, true love makes the world goes round to touch us all.

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As If In A Game Of 'Show And Tell

Some people live their lives,
As if in a game of 'Show and Tell'.
Needing they do,
To be noticed and identified.
And existing with an attention given,
Needed to prove they occupy space.

And with a doing of it unsolicited,
That seems to require more emphasis...
With a producing of more chatter,
Comparable to a disturbance made...
With a noise some wish would be silenced.
And more acceptable to others of common needs.

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Sleeping together

Sleeping together, yet being alone

This soliloquy has nothing to do with sex

It’s more ramblings, about cuddling, and just lying unconscious

And about intimacy, about sharing morning breath.

It’s about spooning, hugging, sharing the covers

And most of us have these nighttime pleasures to own

While many others, and I’m sure there are many

Are sleeping together, yet being alone.

Sleeping together is a thing based in the primeval

In the litter, in the nest, in the pack

The piling upon, over and under and among

One’s brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers

All sleeping together, never alone or lonely.

At any time 'lonely' can start and grow like a cancer

So nestle up, cling tightly, so you’ll never be

Sleeping together, yet being alone

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Something Special

Maurice white, wayne vaughn & wanda vaughn
Love is like something special
Compared to none, its pure celestial
The game of love and life is here to stay
Day by day, your heart will find a way to win
Love is like the same ole game we use to play
Hide and seek from yesterday is still in play
Love is like something special
Burns like fire and keeps you warm
To play the game of love and not get burned
Win or lose, learn the rules, its all in livin
Love is like the same ole game we use to play
Hide and seek from yesterday is still in play
Love and games, the burning flame
Love and games, remains the same
Love and games, the same ole pain
Love is like something special
Your fragrance is the spice if life
The game of love, it seems to have no age
Wind the clock, move the hands, now lets turn the page

song performed by Earth Wind And FireReport problemRelated quotes
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Helicopter

Oh heli oh heli
Im crouching here with a telescope in hand
Looking across our lego land
I really think its about time that she came down
She a laughing giggly whirlybird
She got to be obscene to be obheard
I really think its about time that she came down
And I object to all the air male that she pick up
The air male that she pick up
The air male that she pick up
When shes up there twirling round
Just like a helicopter - copter
Shes landing on the town
Its about time that I stopped her - stopped her
When shes up there twirling round
Just like a helicopter - copter
Oh heli - oh heli
Now shes away from convent shes gone wild
Grown from a nice young lady to a child
I really think its about time that she came down
She a laughing giggly whirlybird
She got to be obscene to be obheard
I really think its about time that she came down

song performed by XtcReport problemRelated quotes
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Shes Got Medals

Shed walk through the door and shed set up the drinks on the house
She played a good game of darts, and the men slapped her back
And never took her out
She wore a trenchcoat khaki
Her hobnail boots were full of holes
Shes got medals
Her mother called her mary, but she changed her name to tommy, shes a one, oh
She went and joined the army, passed the medical
Dont ask me how its done
They sent her to the front line
Fighting for her countrys name
Shes got medals
She got very tired of picking up girls
Cleaning her gun and shaving her curls
Then the enemy dropped a bomb
Survivors there were none
People say that when the moon is full and all the stars have gone to bed
You can see her ghost but thats a lie because the naughty woman isnt dead
She deserted on the previous morning
Replaced her uniform with dresses silk and green
Called herself eileen
Came to london town
Now shes settled down
Shes got medals

song performed by David BowieReport problemRelated quotes
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I tease Jami [ Reprise ]

IMAGINE!
This morning,
My girl broke up with me
Because I teased Jami,
She said I'm crazy,
Stupid, and mentally sick
To tease Jami
While she's with me,
Now she's leaving me.
Is this funny?
But its hurting.
She wouldn't even listen.
And now I'm lonely,
Who will comfort me?
Jami doesn't want me,
She doesn't even trust me.
They all think I'm crazy.
And now I'm rhyming
Out on nothing,
Isn't this stupid?
Who will help me beg Becky,
She's as lovely as Naomi.
Tell her to come back to Benjamin.
Jami is far away in America,
How I wished I was a Jamaican,
Maybe she would be my lover,
If I was a Raster,
But I am nothing.
Just a stupid baldy.
And they are all leaving me.
Good God, who wouldn't lose sanity?
O Jami, can't you trust Benjamin?
In your love he's sinking,
O I wish I was jamaican
They don't trust Nigerians
They think we are all fraudsters.
But not all lawyers are liars,
There are good people in Africa.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
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