too busy thinking bout my baby

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    too busy thinking bout my baby



    no need in telling me of your troubles,
    no need in saying the  worlds,
    is about to burst it''s bubble,
    through hell and high waters,

    i will jump through balls of fire,
    for she is my heart desire
    no need in playing the crying game,
    telling me  those sweet  nothings ,


    not one single  step will you gain
    all your hopes  will be in vain,
    in dreams time does not change,
    the nature of happiness she brings

    i got love on my mind ,
    and my mind on love,
    i got butterflies in my heart,
    in my eyes there are stars,

    taking a  break from the pain,
    don't wanna feel misery,
    if  it don't pertain to my baby,
    i don't want the company,

    i am master of my domain.
    what i say and do,
    i persuade without shame,
    have no time for blues,

    oooh it's no mystery ,
    i am lost in love,
    feels good so good,
    i want let haters touch,

    so spare me the do me wrong songs,
    the broken heart that  always lives on,
    don't mean to sound so dog gone mean,
    just don't want that vision invading my dream

    just wanna love  her on a bed of roses,
    don't give a damn who knows it,
    up and down,
    from clouds to solid ground

    aim to please her even if it means,
    bowing  down on bending knees,
    just to spoon feed ,
    where her her two legs meet,


    mighty is the  love that grows and grows,
    there's no force on this earth ,
    that can separate us ,
    cause we are tough enough,

    to with stand all that time brings,
    reality has no control over dreams,
    heaven surely must be like this,
    nothing can be sweeter than a loving kiss.







    LOVE IS THE FORCE ,THAT RULES US ALL,,

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    Chi commented on too busy thinking bout my baby

    11-24-2010

    O.K.dude Im feelin some good energy from you on this poem and I hope to see more of your style come out keep growing you got the gift. Chibaby....sister poet

    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    wizthom’s Poems (24)

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