***A Pride, Not Bride***
Towards my savvy mind she is trudging,
restlessness crested all over her pale apparition.
Innocence and sinlesnness in dilution;
the warm red fluid of her blood stream.
A warm red fluid streaming,
Through her chest, her cold warm blood spilling.
Her heart must have been stabbed by a feeling.
Oh! This lass's heart is seriously bleeding,
she Sluggishly lean forward pleading:
Please let your thinking be mild,
think wide,
I am your child, your pride
But, not yet your bride.
My moma is that teeny bone from your ribs,
My bond to that right of a human is too deep.
I am your child, your pride
But, not yet your bride.
Why not let nature handle my journey to adolescent?
Why not let me ripe first?
Why Do you hastily thrust me,
unprepared, to that ritual of agony,
a rite of throes to adulthood.
To your sexual fulfillment the ripe me still stand,
my virgin fluid,still, will stain that neat fibers of your bed sheets...
I am your child, your pride
But, not yet your bride.
Walk me to the college with a stride,
Where knowledge's secrets openly hide.
kick your religious misconceptions aside,
All careful decision laws always abide.
I am your child, your pride
But, not your bride.
My hollow mind is still so naive,
Prepare me for this logical battle of life
tomorrow, I'll be your wonderful wife.
For now, I am your Child,
your pride but, not yet your bride.
