At Least - Poem by Charles Monroe
Barbaric Beautiful Orchid Queen
Who fell asleep before the clock struck three
Hip-hop serenades on Compton Nights
Are your dreams reaching prime? At least there's still Wine.
The cheap Kind; Two Ninety-Nine and a Dime type
I'm in Love with the way you don't love me so much
Girl of my dreams; pearl on thy streams
I'm a Vulture, Holster is empty as Ghandi's
Lust got you walkin' as steamy as zombies
Swear that you want me, becoming a bore
Ran out of Wine, let me write as you snore
Shoplifting trips to the store, but what for?
Just for more? My soul's what you choose to ignore
And I've just about lost the will to implore
So instead of massages that boil your fluids
I sit among rubble and Loves left in ruins
So sleep in the backseat half-naked, its fine
I may not have you but at least I have Wine
The Ghetto is mellow, two minutes til' five
I may not have you; At least I got Wine...
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