Last night I saw a broad.
Eyes big and wide, so much like a toad;
Her skin of a tone of cream light,
To this my heart does delight;
As a duty.
Her body godly and of shape,
So apt this goddess, my inner man goes agape;
Hair dark and silky, all summed in curly waves.
Pure beauty in my presence,
Of the kind that could turn a king into a nuisance;
Yield riches to rags,
And slave nobles into thugs.
To this demon we all behold!
And if it does please,
For this miss a wish to be,
Then my heart should be hers to fold.
Save for a breath,
My broad, the beauty that I saw,
For all my kind she sees foes,
Too hot for me to hold,
With pockets shallow, she keeps us not close,
For in this day my friend,
Hot things may only be held with deep pockets.
A nice heart and vintage lockets;
Is all I have.
I’ve seen her before,
Or her kind with that she stands for.
Money is her next of kin.
Her cloth linen white,
Only stains if you put up a fight.
She’s fiery with drawn claws,
Though none is seen.
Believe you me; I’ve bled at her helm.
I’ll run this time though,
I’ll run my lungs out before she gets me.
And indeed my friend there is a fate of them,
Who through all their might,
Seek this broad, the one that I saw last night,
The envoy of death that’s claimed knights.
The devil clothed in Prada. The moon walker.
© A #Zimwe symbol/chapter five/abstract episodes/therapeutic episodes