You've got me,
Smiling too much.
You've got me,
Strutting' my stuff.
So proud I maneuver,
High stepping' through...
Busy street crowds.
You've got me,
Talking out loud.
Looking around,
As I float on clouds.
You've got my mind dominated.
And elated to sweat.
Soaking wet and catching,
Breath with little left.
After kickin' boots n' rockin',
A bed with a headboard...
Knockin' a wall that scares,
My neighbors to awaken...
With belief I'm facing,
Certain death.
My dreams to have of you,
Are so intense.
No one can convince me,
What I feel to experience...
With you here holding tightly,
Shouting as I scream...
Is not real.
'Wassup, O.G.
Heard you screaming,
The other night.
That arthritis you got,
Must be painful.
I would rather have nightmares.
Than to suffer like that,
As often as you do.
You brought the neighbors outside,
Deciding whether or not...
They should call the cops.'
Stop exaggerating!
'I'm not.
When they came,
I was the one who told them...
The pain you have from arthritis,
Is so severe at times...
It can sound as if,
You're with someone...
Having sex you don't get,
That often.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem