I refuse to wait for a song of salvation
I must take the moment at hand
For music mocks time,
And I am no ones pawn
I need no mediator to relate the colors of life
I have patiently held my words,
And every song is begging to distort my poetry
Yes, the blues is a woman wanting my soul
I very well know every step of her dance,
Looking at others while I kiss her neck
Poetry is different,
She is faithful and forgiving
A mother,
A wife,
Willing to wait for her man
She leads me to greater things,
And asks nothing in return,
Whereas the blues demands I burn
Yet, I will indeed burn,
But on my terms,
As poetry sees fit
Led To Greater Things
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