Que te cuentan un chiste Las palabras se traducen Pero el humor no se puede Por si no lo entiendes Ríete
Beautiful legs The right shape and curve Olive color without the green That tans and doesn’t burn Until you see
Strong hands Hold me down To the bed I say to them I have to go
It’s not pretty When I cry People get almost as embarrassed as I
May sun is warm An old friend You have missed June sun Still smiles
Would I rather be A younger me? More productive Stronger Would i have to give up
Springtime means Berry pickin’ In warm sun Therapeutic Part of me
Look in the mirror What is it you see? Hazel eyes above your Favorite black dress Looks clean and fresh
I’m watching a woman in a bikini In great shape with a swollen bell… Play with her puppy named Gatsby A Hispanic family comes The little girl dips her feet in
My poems are short Written at night In my head I wake at dawn Shake my memory
I wallow in my sadness As it pools up It has not swallowed me Who floats above its surface This surface
We Are me and you Together Two hearts Two minds
My objective is selfish Not to share or be heard To get it out and move on No one seems to hear my pain No one seems to feel my pain
I cannot divide My heart Into four pieces Equally Geometrically
I’ve known Deep inside All along My value That I matter