Thursday, July 28, 2011

Sleep

It’s time to sleep after we cry and weep.
It’s the time of sleep; make your dream fall deep.
She wondered, when will I ever leave this apartment
Being too apart, she mint to sleep apart from under the grand department.
Of a temporary building and un-owned land,
She’s tired of the help in hand, time to make a plan.
So she thought up of something that was better than nothing.
Singing is what she does best, a God-given gift that was place on her breast.
Expressing her gift beginning with the streets then went local.
Now, she is free, because she found the key in her vocal.
Twist of fate from rough rides through life.
She was blistered on the side walks and now she can become a wife.
Turning from local news to interviews with Byron Jones,
Her voice is fierce until they hit the bones.
Children are influenced, women felt more deliverance
As more men indulge with lust, and her savings starts to bust.
Chills and tingles travels through her body,
Her life starts to fade, this must be a robbery.
Times up and her deep sleep is now over
Now she wakes up from her sleep in anguish, then rollovers.

Part 2 coming out soon...

~YoungC
check out poetry.com because after reading someone's dynamic poetry you will be motivated to make a poem yourself.

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