Hey friend, don’t let this love of yours
be some kind of rope
a lasso of some sort
thrown above your collarbone

You know? Sometimes…
Life is like a ranch
where humans live as calves:
eating pasture
and fruit off a branch;
enjoying, freedom
till they meet a espouse

then women become like cows
producing milk, feeding a child
till they feel trapped, like
in a stable like,
awaiting for the time
they could see the sun again
and feel alive

But hey friend, don’t let this love of yours
be some kind of rope
a lasso of some sort
thrown above your collarbone

Remember cupid isn’t a cowboy
And humans aren’t cattle
You are a woman,
a fantabulous to be mother
feeding a baby boy

Oh remember that well
Oh remember that very well

Written by: L.L.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s