ms. moody's happy misery

there goes ms. moody

with her highs and her lows

changes shape faster than the wind blows

what lies on the inside only her soul knows
wears her heart on the outside of her clothes
a peaceful girl screaming from the inside
wavering soul hiding behind her pride
she's tired...she'd kill for some normalcy
some peace....some cease fire

she's tired...but then she's so happy

she's bubbly...giggly...silly!!

she's energy....she's energy

she's balloon popped by a needle point

she's getting high off a neo-soul joint

she's jill going up that hill to meet jack

she's two beats closer to a heart attack

she's flat...rock bottom...low...

feeling like she'd just rather die

how can a girl with wings not know how to fly?

ms. moody's making everyone miserable and sad
woke up this morning happy but goes to sleep mad

but she's glad that she's not the only one alone

there goes ms. moody with her highs and lows
there she goes...

begin..

hello world....
do you still have room for one of your forgotten sistas?
for one of your lost daughters who's slowly trying to pick up the
pieces slowly trying to walk on weak knees, trying to climb a moun-
tain with no fighting spirit. do you have time to listen to her
blues echo off the walls of her heart as she tries to hold on? seems
like they've been barriers all around this sista but hey world, don't
you miss her?

don't you wanna hear
her laughter coming through the kitchen, don't you wanna smell her
soul dancing in the streets of Manhattan, a kick ass smile lighting up
your vision, damn! you've would've sworn the sun lived in heaven. her
bright sight weaving a path her great grands would want to walk in.
metamorphosis.


when was the last time she felt something real?
how can you tell when a broken heart has been healed?
how is it that she knows how this and that feels,
truth is, she does....on a real.

she feels.

i miss her laughter the most, i miss her laughing at those corny
jokes, man, i miss who she was becoming...world, won't you let
her back in?

1817

ebony fair lady
with pins in her hair
bows politely at the suitor coming her way
care to dance? care to write to me
like they did back in the day
the Victorian era
when love was uninhibited
love was patient
love had time to grow love
was slow.

ebony fair lady
with pins in her hair
bows so lady-likely to the same suitor as he walked away
they're other men in the room she muses
"i'll have mine before the sun gets low"
and she'll revel in the thought of taking love slow
don't
forget
to
write
me.....