She was your typical
"I'll sleep when I'm dead" township girl
A classical tale of a dream deferred
Not that she cared:
Dreams are for those who still yearn to live the life and she had it all.
She was the queen of the dark:
Her crown hair swinging side to side
Like a tail of a hours;
Her skirts short
With sensual tops
Making a seductive revelation.
She step like expenses on pencil hills;
Long lags that went on for days;
Her wrists blinging.
Lips like balloons inflated;
Dairy cup double D;
She laughs as if singing.
She was an Idol;
Little miss talked about,
Got her friends loving to hate her,
Fellows hating to love her:
Under pressure, drooling
Making ambitious promises.
Magically sexy
That with just a finger snap
She could split wallets
Like it was the red sea.
She modeled the side walk like a ramp
The grass turning green: envious;
So hot she smoked;
She competed with the sun
For the centre attention of the universe.
But she hated closing her eyes:
It gave her flesh backs
To a time she hit straight As
But strayed when her uncle
Hit her flash on flash.
So she lived beyond her own reality:
Late night clubs and booze;
Tight jeans that left guys
With, as if seen a ghost, smile.
She rolled with boys who drove Golfs;
Who wore crocks and levi's strauss,
Not willing to be conquered
If you drove a conquest.
She was the cream of the town
And boys enjoyed creaming
So a seed was plowed.....
Her smile full of shame...
Her eyes full of pain...
Her heart full of blame...
She realized
The whole village had taken a ride
And she had taken a life
But past is experience gained
And every new day
Is repentance chance.
Neo Thipe and Pat Phore "The Bandung Conference" South Africa.
http://www.myspace.com/thebandungconference
"I'll sleep when I'm dead" township girl
A classical tale of a dream deferred
Not that she cared:
Dreams are for those who still yearn to live the life and she had it all.
She was the queen of the dark:
Her crown hair swinging side to side
Like a tail of a hours;
Her skirts short
With sensual tops
Making a seductive revelation.
She step like expenses on pencil hills;
Long lags that went on for days;
Her wrists blinging.
Lips like balloons inflated;
Dairy cup double D;
She laughs as if singing.
pic source wangechi mutu (kenya) |
She was an Idol;
Little miss talked about,
Got her friends loving to hate her,
Fellows hating to love her:
Under pressure, drooling
Making ambitious promises.
Magically sexy
That with just a finger snap
She could split wallets
Like it was the red sea.
She modeled the side walk like a ramp
The grass turning green: envious;
So hot she smoked;
She competed with the sun
For the centre attention of the universe.
But she hated closing her eyes:
It gave her flesh backs
To a time she hit straight As
But strayed when her uncle
Hit her flash on flash.
So she lived beyond her own reality:
Late night clubs and booze;
Tight jeans that left guys
With, as if seen a ghost, smile.
She rolled with boys who drove Golfs;
Who wore crocks and levi's strauss,
Not willing to be conquered
If you drove a conquest.
She was the cream of the town
And boys enjoyed creaming
So a seed was plowed.....
Her smile full of shame...
Her eyes full of pain...
Her heart full of blame...
She realized
The whole village had taken a ride
And she had taken a life
But past is experience gained
And every new day
Is repentance chance.
Neo Thipe and Pat Phore "The Bandung Conference" South Africa.
http://www.myspace.com/thebandungconference
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