Freewill Amon Poems
Her eyes glitters like the icing on a cake.
Bosom so smooth like hot loaded bowl of pounded yam
Her breasts are like bunches of grapes
Her kiss is a drug I take and feel so dizzy
Her touch caresses me like the evening breeze
The touch of her boottie feels like the influence of alcohol
The aura of her presence is like the aroma from my favourite diet.
The sound of her voice is like that of a loner's pet.
I kiss her on her lips standing at 5 feet,9 inches
I open her bra for a little play and she says, baby please...
Looking at her in her ...
I hate to think that I'm protected
Because I'll blame someone for my misfortune.
I hate to think that I'm neat
When I have cobwebs in my room.
I hate to think that all is well
Because Life is not a dream.
I hate to think that I'm loved