The Man Of the People
Of something very cold,
But hard and very sharp!
My searching fingers finally bumped unto your love;
And the blackness came over me with,
A whistle to escape with my lips!
Let us shake our legs,
For the mind will last into the night;
And she held me with the muse of the scent from her hair.
I was fussy about how i am fetched at home,
But the horses need me becasue i am the man of the people;
Because the hissing snow fell on my body and,
I was very glad that she was with me.
I will dropp one more act on this love,
Rattling through the mind of my lover;
And like the lifeless remnants of the months gone by.
My mind is with her like,
The superstitions flashback of the night;
And of the misfit act that is carried away by the wind,
For she held me very tight with the muse of her love!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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