The Way You Make Me Feel
You make me nervous. In that, with one smile you’ve captured my attention and shook hands with my soul, kinda way. You make me dream. In that, 2.5 kids, picket fence, shaded front yard, and pool in the back, kinda way. You make me comfortable. In that, I cut all the hair off my head and you say 'you're still a beautiful woman,” kinda way. You make me lie. In that, I said I wasn’t gonna love again, but look at me now, kinda way. You make me testify. In that, God is still in the miracle-working business, kinda way. You make me crave. In that, you have grown on me unexpectedly and I’ve come to desire you, kinda way. You make me appreciated. In that, “yes, I hear every word you’re saying, now keep talking,” kinda way. You make me edible. In that, you’ve tasted even the soft skin behind my left arm, kinda way. You make me worry. In that, will this good thing last until death part me, kinda way. You make me believe. In that, see…when you treat others the way you want to be treated, it will come to you, kinda way. You make me live. In that, this may be my last moment and I wanna spent it with you, kinda way. You make me smile. In that, thank God you’re in my life, kinda way. |
----email thoughts to phyllisa_smith@hotmail.com
www.ourworldpublications.com |
![]() |
![]()
|
Home| TheBlackMarketPlace | Classified
Ads | Resources |
| Black History | Monthly Columns
| Contact Us | Advertising
| Y Black |