I have been waiting for my man
Pacing for my man, primping for my man
Watching the clock and wondering where he is my man.
He won’t be a Knight; he won’t come with his white horse and sweep me off my feet.
He won’t be any kind of Mc Driver Dreamy or Steamy.
And he won’t be the stuff of fantasy.
I have been spying for my man
Eavesdropping for my man
Watching the door like I’m expecting him, my man.
And who says I should want a Clyde to my Bonnie, A Ken to my Barbie?
And who says I should be Charming on a Prince or waiting on a King?
I have been styling for my man
Changing faces for my man
Wondering what guise he’ll wear my man.
But who says I need a strapping Hero
And who says I would faint on a GQ Man?
Still I’m waiting for my man
Primping for my man
Wondering when will he take notice my man.
About Me
- Ebony Miss
- Writing is the act of recounting, remembering, speaking up and pouring out as much or as little of the writer's soul as is desired. It's about teaching and molding minds and opening up the eyes...I can laugh cry and scream about the world through my words; I can be an activist bringing witness to what my eyes filter every day and I can take my imagination wherever it needs to go, wherever I want it to go and let it grow like a plant hit with just the right amount of sun-into an intricate work of art-my very own play on words-my very own-word art.
Ebony Miss's Beats
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