Brown Face Man

Who am I…. that brown face man…. who am I…. that
brown face man whom does not have to lounge in that sand to tan.

There is a woman standing so grand, her man truly does not…. understand why she calls me her brown face man.

I walk with a pace and a smile on my face after she whispers
goodnight…. my brown face man…. why are you not part of my plan.

Commands, demands not for her not from her brown face man for I am the ship and she is the commander I will open all her doors.

Who am I that brown face man…. shadow of doubt the one she does not speak about, oh! She is not weak about, brown face
man…. her creep about.

Her sensual touch from her hands makes this brown face man want to dance from the beating of my heart plus her heart, you cannot
repeat a Kong go beat.
Saturday, September 25, 2010

Delivering Poems Around The World

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