Self, yes me I’m talking to you Im stuck in the mud and can’t seem to break free This mud sucks (thats a pun, you see) I ache for one thing Its simple and free Love. You know the kind Everyone seems to have it
It sparkles, “bling”
The love she wears on her left sleeve.
I thought I had it once
But nope I was wrong
He left me alone, well
not really, two boys tagged along.
I am simple
a home, dinner table conversations
a couple of spoons.
I dont mind cooking, I already got the mixer
I like to clean its kinda my liquor.
I have prayed and prayed but God has not offered
I still believe though
In His love and life.
I just would like to be a wife.