I Do ~A poem by Michael Ntunga.

 Poetry is like the truth

And people fucking hate the truth

Here's what I hate

The scent of you on someone else's pillow

The thought of not having roses when I finally come visit

My truth is that I'm a jelaous lover

And I want you all to myself

The love we have is stolen

We might have been in a getaway car

But you were my getaway drug

You were my ecstasy, my basic need

Like all men, I see the world for what I want to see

Reality isn't always really what it seems

A beautiful child, a flower child, you are on everyone's mind

And I can't change any of that, 

You're a mystery, you do me Scooby Doo, 

My strongest suit is they can't love you like I do,

They don't see you like I do, 

Your name, they don't sing praises like I do, 

Write you poems like I do, 

But that still doesn't change the fact we all want you, 

I can't say I totally grasp how it feels like being on everyone's pedestal,

Just so some can bring you down over and over,

Many try to conquer, but I've never seen a woman who ain't put up a fight, 

So I try to nature, grow with you

Learn the things that make your lips curve,

Learn how to caress to your curves,

I've gone wrong plenty of times, 

I've let you down a number of times

I admit I'm flawed and you're the mirror that shows,

I've got Tatts and gold, to cover up scars from my previous clown shows, 

When love was a circus, 

And my heart was almost murdered,

Once again, I admit

I've got a lot of healing to do

For I still fear giving my whole to you, 

But I'm a lover, so I still do,

Give these little pieces, to you, with hopes you see that this is decent,

And this is who I am, 

A living God, yes I am,

For I love with no ends, and before I go

I've got to love you all

I've got to give you my all.

I Do

© Michael Ntunga.