In these
Jungles of concrete,
Conning sprees
Have become a common thing,
Like prostitution & poverty,
And honestly
I miss the honesty
Cuzz it would seem
Nothings as promising
As a promise ring
Except honoring dishonesty
& so I pray
For the day
We make way
For monogamy
But that day is astray
Until you claim Queen

What you know about
Secret societies
Of sexual bribery
Wench craft connivery
As far as blind eye's cant see??

What you know about quality
Before quantity
When you blend in with variety....

I seen that resume
on your back page,,,
With your body up for bids
Like a black slave,,,,
But who am I to judge
But a heart bleeding in a rat maze
Fading in dimming of these last days ****************************************************** Dedicated to the crafty winches & cannivers