Wet Paint - Dry Paint - Why Paint.

You've sang your Songs with vigor and pride 
You pointed To the left 
You Beyoncé-yed his life. 
Even Reduced what you had to Destinys Child 
And all the other unlove songs that said
"You don't give a fuck" about..... anymore. 
And He was stupid enough to believe you. 
You can call him an asshole all you like 
But he risked his life by J-walking to meet you 
On the other side of the street was something indiscribable
Something to risk it all for. 
It was not your fault but...
I mean seriously for someone so cold and calculating 
How could he J-walk instead of thinking to press the street button? 
You had your walls up. 
You have your prejudice
You fought the good fight to keep him out the crevices
They became craters over time 
It is not your fault. 
So he likes to eat your stock fish and plantain
Which brings out the dark forces in you to curse his ancestors
Bending your thoughts into paranoia 
Every time someone fried plantain. 
It is not your fault. 
Yes you got a vial. It had venom. 
You drank. You even swam in it and licked your lips 
And yet you survived 
However changed you might be 
It is not your fault. 
You are built to loved
You are built to be cherished
You are built to be honored
You are built to be put to sleep not kept awake 
And put to sleep again 
Till the wet paint goes dry. 
And till you don't remember why you painted at all. 

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