Barefoot and Wild


Oh it is not the color of my skin

You will never date again

Foolish boy my kind comes in all hues


It is my sarcastic grin

Passion that erupts from with in

You poor man, I was born to play blues


Oh I have my books and my chores

when they are done I want more

My eyes were dripping with clues 


They have fire, they spark

you should have known from the start

I'd end up dancing in woods with no shoes




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