Poetry: Missionary Mind Play

It was his missionary mind play total domination deception was his disease to his creation.

Blind to all his flaws it was like I was on all fours with my paws, young, dumb and so high sprung.

I was ready to play that Faith Evans drama, tatoo your name on my chest and be your baby mama.

But things just started going down hill quicker than Jack and Jill, no water barrels, this is just how I started to feel.

We were the topic of the talk shows, your friends became the audience, no applause all I had left was the remembrance.

Kisses on my forehead became a slap in the face and all I had left were your hands to trace.

By MT