My first love letter was a poem,
So straight, brief and minute like germ
But my heart sounded like a drum;
Boom…; boom…; I heard it played
While I sneaked a bomb into her purse,
Not for love or lust but pair pressure;
Painter, I couldn’t paint her face.
As powerful as liquor and hemp
I believe I convinced all phantom.
Prayed she bear me arms
The poem I wrote was on love-forearm,
Rhymes, beauty; I meant no harm.
Like a farmer and his farm
The decision is to the yam.
I stayed behind to see the web
I felt like an Ace when I had a jackpot
Kudos to my worm and arms
First fresh harvesting yam.
Like dirt to socks on loam
She read, smiled and bubbled like foam.
Cool and calm; powerful as hemp;
Drumming my chest, I widen like W
To others; I acted tomfoolery, Tom, Dick and Harry.
Faultless for a yes, she applauded in the lobby.
Then my first love letter was torn
And thrown into the waste bin
The next time I gawk on it, it was a burning ash.