To Whom Much is Given: A Regular Man's Persuit of Excellence

Sang BlueBird....Sang

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 16:57:00 +0000

The bluebird carries the sky on his back.
~Henry David Thoreau

I sat on the front steps observing the baby breezes rushing home to beat darkness. The amber sun was tired and growing dim. It slowly trudged through cloud traffic towards its resting place behind the horizon. At a time when most people were winding down to enjoy the evening solace I was still thinking.

A headache kept me company with just enough pain to wrinkle my eye brows as i sorted my thoughts. Out the corner of my eye I noticed a lone bluebird descend to his perch. He wrestled the swaying branch to gain his balance. Once in position he cleared his throat; poked out his proud chest and sang his song.

He sang with a calm assurance.
Maybe he wasn't the best at flying
but he was still fly
maybe he wasn't the sexiest bird
but he carried his part of the sky

I watched in awe as this humble bird used his God given talent to the best of his ability. No matter the audience, no matter his size, no matter the weight of the sky pressing against his back...that blue bird sang sang because he know that no one else could sing his song for him and nothing could keep him from doing what God placed him on this earth to do.

He sang out loud...in the key of his soul
and the tempo of his dreams.
He sang anyhow...and that inspired me.

Food for Thought:

Look at the birds of the air
they do not sow or reap or store away in barns
and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.
Are you not much more valuable than they?
Matthew 6:26

Dead Man Walking

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Mon, 17 May 2010 12:54:00 +0000

i aint all the way 100
i'm everyday average
so even when i give my all
it only covers 70 percent
of life’s demands
such a cruel to-do list
for an everyday man
hell bent on heaven

Wonder if the pearly gates
charge shipping & handling
i'm trying to get in
with plenty of baggage
i have good intentions
but the goods that are damaged
if I tell God upfront
maybe the angels won't panic

for all 10 commandments
i have at least 10 excuses
about how i wanted to get right
but just couldn't do it
i have God-given talent
that I'm scared to start using
cause if the risk doesn’t work
my image will be ruined

i have
too many friends
and not enough enemies
some people say
this is a good thing
but let me hit you with
a dose of honesty
this comes from living fake
and being too friendly

I have too many to save
and not enough energy
so the hero in me
is running on empty
standing still...but still standing
my soul’s on bended knee
as sinful as I am
Lord… I still said please
not begging for help
but praying for mercy

real talk
my life feels confined
and outlined in chalk
yearning for an adventure
but acting out a murder scene
running the rat race at too slow a pace
a dead man walking

Slick Saturday

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 20:46:00 +0000

a gentleman by choice
i’m intentionally smooth
pushing this Billy D cutlass
grown man…old school
pavement chasing with patience
mello like Adele’s groove
little kids point and wave
like it’s a video shoot
i aint making movies
but I am making moves

feeling something like a star
but still a down to earth fella
taking time to myself
enjoying the simple pleasure
or reflecting and reclining
leaning left in my leather

the plot gets better
as I follow sun drops
to the southside of Atlanta
and this honey dip’s spot

i finesse a steady throttle
2 stepping on the gas
doing a 65 slide
can’t speed too fast

i arrived on point
she couldn’t help but laugh
she had butter bronze skin
and her hair pulled back
her caramel strut
accented the forecast
beautiful weather
beautiful woman
how beautiful is that

she greeted me with sugar lips
tasting like butterworth
she walked deliberate yet artistic
such a classy piece of work
hidden behind 2 pieces
half body
half naughty
covered by a piece of shirt
she gave sexiness the business
and put that halter top to work

her tattle-tale smile
let me know I gave her tingles
when I asked how well her pony tail
could mix and mingle
with the wind

that was my touché
she dropped her marmalade
oversized shades
and looked at me as if to say
…don’t play
that was no masquerade
it was a challenge
through your inhibitions out
leave them in the wind
she said “well then…
let the fun begin”
i drove off with no restraint

the
plot
thickens…

A FisherMan's Rant

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 18:45:00 +0000

all eyes on me
but they’re not watching my back
they’re watching my pockets
ready to attack
looking out for themselves
but I see through all that

i've passed out too many hand outs
there's nothing left to take from me
i’ve leant so many helping hands
that I’m immune to the finger pointing
go ahead and blame me
i knew it was coming
i guess its my fault
you have more month than money

i’m hip to the game
and on to your scheme
i recognize hard work
and it doesn’t wear designer jeans
you have a childish appetite
that looks just like greed
maturity knows the difference
between wants and needs
so I suggest you grow up
and stop complaining

it used to be:
what can I do to help
now I realize
i can’t give you
what u don’t want yourself

fish:
a hustle or work ethic

the only fish you have
is sel-FISH-ness
and I’ll be damned
if I keep on being SELF-less
i’m a little too smart
not to use common sense
and you’re a little too grown
for me to be babysit

get up off your blessed assurance
and start making moves
make up your bed
make up your mind
make a phone call or 2
make up for the lost time
that a grown man shouldn’t lose

now if you’ll excuse me youngin

i’ve got more
FISH-ing
to do

"Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.
Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime"
~Chinese Proverb

Lemonade & Lawn Mowers

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 13:53:00 +0000

growth
through laughs and woes
highs and lows
she stood by me
and stayed down
with 10 toes

them pedicured roots
kept us planted
hell we’ve been through
but survived the hail damage
rain might have fallen
but we just kept standing
maturity kept us grounded
values keep us established

nothing too lavish
but so middle classy
wrestled with money
tag teaming finances
double-up income
got us changing tax brackets
and shopping for something brick
home doesn’t come in plastic

for real
words can’t express what she did for my heart
even expanded my vocabulary
from mine to our’s
she is the reason we made it thus far
so she’ll be the first to drive my dream car

her love was race ready
the pace is life steady
we survived the speed bumps
they slowed us down
to appreciate just how far we’ve come
check our track record
we’ve built momentum
forever is at the finish line
lookout...here we come

so here’s to lemonade
and lawnmowers
a toast to minding our own grass
and enjoying the lush color
going green with love
such an organic moment
don’t look now babe
but here comes the Joneses
trying to keep up

Coming to the Stage...

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 19:59:00 +0000

a country boy

that came from nothing
and didn't ask for much
just wanted
to be something
to somebody

far from godly
just a humble heathen
a soulful rebel
like Kid Rock's
rock'n roll Jesus

this lonely night
he shied off the mic
just plugged up his guitar
slowly strummed his heart
and swayed from side to side

the pain had no lyrics
but you could still heart it
with every rift and chord
feelings were coming
from the heart he was strumming
causing tears to start falling
to the floor

he cried in the spotlight
he didn’t deserve
he cried for forgiveness
but didn’t use words
he cried in the key
of lost innocence
he cried for being famous
at his family’s expense
he cried for his daughter
whose life he was missing
he cried through his fingers
and only the guitar listened

by the time he stop playing
sweat covered his face
he left his heart on the stool
before exiting the stage

the crowd raved and ranted
over the talented musician
but could care less about the man
after his session was finished

he gave them his soul
but treated home like a gimmick
he was good at playing songs
but couldn’t live up to lyrics

A Grace Short of Glory

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 14:24:00 +0000

Canadian Mist has its benefits

like helping Grandmamma fake being happy

she searches the bottom of each lonely bottle

trying to find the love of granddaddy

a worn out face tells his age
Granddaddy worked all life long
the unpaid debt that karma collects
are taxing his heart and fixed income
he played in them streets far too long
forsaking family and curfew
now his worst nightmare haunts him with guilt
because his sons are rolling stones too

grown in age, but not in ways
lust proceeds his brain
daddy is committed to playing with woman
and doesn’t see a reason to change
ill-gotten gain leads to generations of pain
one child after the other
my heart is still tender
'cause i distinctly remember
how he did the same wrong
to my mother

she drank her addiction because love was missing
but Grandmamma is wise beyond measure
despite the alcohol, she loved us all
and that will stay with me forever
Granddaddy made his mistakes
and has penance to make
but at least he's trying to do better

no excuses for dad, but this is reality
he's made something from nothing
he's with the same woman today
so he's come a long way
who am i to judge him

truth be told
i love these folks
more than words can say it
the moral of the story
is we fall short of God's glory
but i'm glad He spared us
with His grace

*Photo by Barbara Allain

A Tree Like Me

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 03:36:00 +0000

deep in the woods

where the path is beaten

and the trees look lonely

cause their leaves are leaving

i decide to move on

like changing seasons

can't stay any longer

... i've got my reasons

i tried getting grounded

but the soil was damaged

by those that left

with no roots being planted

fertilized by pain

i lived through disaster

daddy never came

but i remained

mama's hard headed lil bastard

surveying this forest

has changed my perspective

stand your ground

hold it down

is a valuable lesson

although my lineage detoured

down memory lane

and backwards thinking

made them scared of change

regret and remorse

have run their course

and me stopping to complain

only makes matters worse

despite the cross on my shoulder

and a past full of pain

i vow that my bloodline

will never be the same

i push towards frontiers

no where near where i came

ask me where i'm going

and i'll say

through some thangs...

*photo credit: Damien Gallagher

Even if...

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 17:56:00 +0000

pen and men
have something in common
with no paper or pad
no mom or a dad
they keep their emotions in

but still i write

using rhymes as my grind
to touch heaven and earth
with a confession for the ghetto
and everyone in the dirt

i love 'em

so much so
that i'm scripting from the soul
with my eyes closed
transparency colors me
like stained glass windows

my soul is see through
clearly connected to regular people
far from heaven sent
but relevant
giving them something to look up to

because even in the darkest space
my Father finds a way to give us grace
may not always see his face
but if we could
why would we need faith

but the God I’ve found
seems hidden from them
behind Heaven's doors
with no hole to peep in
so they hang outside
sinking deeper in sin
graduating from unbelief
to full blown transgressions

quarantined down there
close enough to hell
to justify being scared
but too far from heaven
to convert complaints into prayers
so they gossip about God
as if He’s not there

Jesus Christ!

excuse me for sounding irreverent
but my auntie needs evidence
that life can get better than this

give her a sign
with dollar amounts
let faith translate
into bank a account
that can make ends meet
before the rent check bounces

ups and downs are an everyday sport
but life ain't fun and games no more
empower me Lord to hold down the fort
better late than never
even if a day late and dollar short

amen

Can You Hear Me Now?

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 14:35:00 +0000

Even though he only attended school up to the 8th grade my Grandfather, Fred Ralston, is still the most succesful man i know.

After being fired as a day laborer for getting to many side jobs my grandfather decided to take his dream seriously and start his own construction company. From that day forward he never worked for anyone else a day in his life. By the time he retired my Grandfather owned rental property in different states, 2 homes and a business that he later passed on to my Uncle.

When i asked him what his secret to success was he would answered:

"Get the Job Done! Let your Actions speak for themselves".

Lesson From Grandaddy:
Your dreams, goals and passion are more than just good conversation topics. They are meant to lived, achieved and acted upon. They are only as good as the benefit they add to your life and the lives of others.

If you really take the life of your dreams seriously and are really passionate about becoming the person of your dreams, then it will show in your actions, not just in your conversation.

Riddle me this:
If actions speak louder than words, can anyone hear your passion?

Are you the Person of your Dreams?

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 18:28:00 +0000

Yesterday i was pulled into a meeting that one of my close comrades was facilitating. As Demond asked questions and offered his perspective on various topics he spoke with such conviction and confidence that was both surprising and contagious. In our normal interaction he exudes these qualities from time-to-time, but this was different. He was in the moment...making the most of it...living it up to the fullest!

Once the confident body language and well placed inflections subsided something dawned on me... my friend, who had shared with me his dreams of climbing the corporate ladder to an upper level management position had just finished a practice run of being the man of his dreams. My comrade...who wanted nothing more than to inspire and encourage others through his passion had just finished doing it without even trying. It was wasn't something he had to think about. Why you ask, because at that moment he was the man of his dream

Although Demond isn't the head of a major corporation just yet, I know that instances like that meeting fuel his confidence. They help him catch his "2nd winds" and encourage him to continue to endure the bumps, bruises and setbacks on his progress to the top. Instances like that not only inspire Demond, but serve as a reminder to us all:

even though you may not have the life of your dreams,
everyday is an opportunity
to practice being
the Person of your dreams

Riddle me this:

What does the man or woman of your dreams look like?
Why don't you know?
When are you going to start practicing being that person?

it just aint enough

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 11:23:00 +0000

i'm her covering
but when the rain starts pouring
she holds my umbrella
despite the mistakes

and money i don't make
she makes me proud
to be regular

lil ol' me
nothing more than a work in progress
blessed with the chance
to live life holding hands
with a princess
...wow
she carries herself like a young lady now
at only 7 years old
she's getting used to her crown

at 29 and some change
i'm experiencing pain
that makes me beg life
to slow down

our sundays end too soon
and fridays don't come fast enough
weekend visits leave me feeling empty
i guess my heart has too much
room
the seven digits it takes
to feel the phone on her face
don't offer enough space
for me to say
baby...i miss u

rotating every other week
aint easy for me
there is no need for the courts
to put me on child support
i give her my everything
for free

i'd give this lil angel
everything in my chest
my heart
my soul
and even my last breath

your honor
my heart is her wound
she is my bandage
i know my daughter in detail
like the fact that she's left handed
i know she doesn't like cheese in her eggs
plus she has a dimple in her left cheek
that i kiss before she goes to bed
as we hug and squeeze
sleep tight

last night i couldn't sleep
because i had tears in my eyes
the kind of tears
that only a father would cry
for his daughter

growing pain
is noticing you child is taller
since the last time you saw her
and realizing that all you have
is everything
you've offered

fear
is making that offer
here before a judge
and him still ruling
that every other weekend
will have to be
enough

A flower for Michael

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 18:15:00 +0000

broken hearts
don't easily part
with the life that touched them
with timeless art

nothing could better compliment
the genius of his showmanship
than the legacy of his eternal gift
that we call entertainment

he lives in rhythms heaven bound
in souls that stretch the world around
in tranquil melodies and sounds
of his favorite song
smile

he lives in walks across the moon
and every other dance you do
in every soulful singers croon
in every life gone too soon

heaven rejoices
while the family cries
and i can see Michael, standing by
asking the angels

why oh why
did they wait to give me flowers
after i died

The Climax Will Come...

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Tue, 19 May 2009 21:07:00 +0000

It Takes a special kind of dude to grind ~ JadaKiss (Video Clip)

The tenor of his voice was textured with a smoker's rasp and weighted with New York twang. He spoke with a comfortable confidence that complimented his wise perspective.

He made no qualms about how his career or lack luster sales. He showed no signs of disappointment over the disparity between the critics esteemed view of him as one of the greatest MCs of all times, but lack of record sales to solidify him as a commercial success.

How did he handle what others might mistakenly view as a sub-par showing as a solo artist? With a smile....he laughed about the changes he's witnessed, the people he's learned from and summarized the bright future ahead with these words:

no good book, movie or career starts with the climax..... that will come later as each chapter gets better and better

*video credit: Allhiphop.com*

Game Time

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Fri, 08 May 2009 17:02:00 +0000

faith is the substance
of things hoped for
and evidence of things
not seen

so i took God at his word
no matter how absurd
it seemed
He made good on His promise
and gave me what I wanted:
another day to get right
and try to live out my dreams

the balls in my court now
so here it is: game time
with no charity stripe
and no free throw line

you have to bang in the paint
to create your own space
if 2nd guessing
takes 3 seconds
then that's a move you won't make
and you can't make progress
standing in place

what kind of race are you running
are you a movie
or a movement
stop all that acting
put on your Nikes
and just do it

they say practice makes prefect
I say practice has to start working
'cause practice won't make a difference
if it hides behind curtains
if you keep it to yourself
then you'll keep getting left
and if you can't get it right
then what's the point of being kept
at all

everybody isn't going to ball
but everybody has 2 options:
give up now
or give your all

R & R

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 13:55:00 +0000

the week flew by
so we loved each other in passing
no deposits or withdrawals
we saved those transactions
for the weekend

for time on the sofa
hidden beneath covers
catching up on friendship
practicing being lovers
opening up our hearts
to see what’s undiscovered
exchanging smiles and touches
getting to know each other
all over

we begin by staring out the window
looking at the moment
she counts sprinting raindrops
and wonders where they're going
why they fall in such a rush
and if they ever feel
lonely

i squeeze her close
and smell remnants of her shower
i cuddle up the subtle hints
of aloe & baby powder
tucking them away like secrets
to be revisited in an hour

we both use fire fingers
to stroke each others skin
strumming warm affection
igniting sparks and tingling

not burning with desire
this is chillaxtion 101
the tv watches us fall asleep
during the Jefferson's marathon

as we lay entangled
with her listening to my chest
i can't help but dream about
how much better life will get
next weekend

Recession Proof...

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 03:03:00 +0000

which one is worse:
not making dollars out of 15 cents
or slaving harder at a job
for more pennies to pinch?

either way you lose
in this game there is no first place
when you're broke
you're just a rodent
in the money rat race

all my life i've lived check-to-check
and now i'm impatient
my degree aint doing nothing
so that was 30 G's waisted

just to keep from complaining
i have to look at it like this:
i would rather have a plaque
then to get those years back
and have nothing to show for it

i'm trying to pass financial blessings
to the next generation
and give them so much more
to dream and live for
than an underpaying job
at someone else's corporation

i want my daughters kids
living off of what grandaddy did
instead of starting out from scratch
i want to leave them something to work with

i want my baby girl
to see the whole world
from the ocean surf of Fiji
to the Egyptian pyramids
so in social studies class
when students ask what she learned
she'll say "I took pictures of the Sphinx"
when its her turn

but my good intentions
don't make not-a-nan million
they only make for good conversation
i have to remind myself
to go get the wealth
and stop procrastinating

take it from me
keep your 30 G's
and just learn this lesson:
...talk is cheap
and doesn't sell well
in a recession

so Show & Prove!

Size Matters

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 14:37:00 +0000

this pain u caused
is such a lonely distraction
thought i'd fall asleep
and out of love
but neither one seems to happen

i've taken inventory of my emotions
and cleared room for other things
now my chest
has nothing left
since that broken heart
wasn't worth salvaging

we were 4 years deep
into forever
with the potential of making it five
but with 1 call
you threw away it all
i guess my cell phone lied

i saved your name as "can't do wrong"
your number was 1-4-3
you gave me chills
and puppy love thrills
mixed with grown folks tendencies

i gave you effort
and genuine progress
covered you in my prayers
when you were faithless

i sold you dreams
with real estate
opened up my life
and said
make yourself at home

my heart was a size 10 1/2
a tailor made fit for you
and no matter how big
the next man swears his pocket is
he'll never be able to fit
in my shoes

Good morning Love

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 22:13:00 +0000

the air is heavy
with the weight of midnight
it has a texture so thicke
it clouds my thoughts
and my sight

the smell of dense fog
reminds me of love jones
but i aint darius
and she aint nia long

this aint the movies
with guaranteed happy endings
this is the reality
of mixing lovers and feelings

we argued in circles
deep into the night
forgivness isn't an option
when we both swear we're right
so resolution gets left
as we continue to fight

eyes get watery
sorry never gets mentioned
she falls asleep lonely
covered in tension

i'd love to hate her
especially now
as i dream with my eyes open
and watch the sun coming out

but try as I may
the effort is in vain
she's the best enemy i've ever had
and i love her for the pain

i admire her insecurities
and how she's imperfect
so i’m going to work harder at being vulnerable
cause this love is worth it

plus the smell of breakfast dancing
as she cooks to our favorite tune
nourishes my appetite
and puts me in a better mood

this love will stay on track
though it may not be a straight line
midnight can be distracting
but
it doesn't take a whole day
to recognize
sunshine

Soul Scribe

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 16:50:00 +0000

my weeping pen
cries tears of ink
birthed by the emotional
thoughts i think

an empathetic pad
soaks up the pain
on each naked line
words leave black & blue stains

the strength of each stanza
is creative expression
poetic intimacy
and an emotional resurrection

my thoughts are no longer dormant
and escape their grave
my spirit comes to life
and gets lost on the page

pushing creativity
to rise to new heights
an eye opening invitation
for you to take a glimpse at my plight

let your eyes slowly glide
in and out of each line
let me write on your soul
as you read about mine...

Live Performance: American Pie

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 17:46:00 +0000

shift(&)1

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 13:30:00 +0000

hold me close
and I'll keep you warm
shower me with love
and I'll endure
the storm

take care of my heart
as if it were your own
let me into your life
and i'll introduce you
to full grown
puppy love

we can run the entire gamut
of bedroom antics
turning affection into a sport
hugging turns to tussling
fussing turns to cussing
making up turns to spooning
and then she gets
forked

stuck
like passing days
and calendars
trying to keep track
of this timeless
love

minutes may tick
impatient seconds may tock
but...
we never were confined
to the hands on the clock
or stopwatches
we've gone so digital
outsiders can't seem to
stop watching

her body gives me speed bumps
i'm ready to move too fast
but she's the object of my affection
so lets slow down
and make our grass
green

lets accent the kitchen
with red
and upgrade the baseboards
lets shop for pots and pans
at contemporary furniture stores
not walmart or tarjhey

she is my feng shui
my ying can't leave that yang alone
I put the luther to her vandross
instead of playing house
we stay home
and play grooves by candlelight
gospel on sunday mornings
and jazz at nightfall

now we're dancing through life
to the cadence of love
2 stepping through the night
to the heavens above
lost in the moment
in a period of fun
if i could describe it in a sentence
it would end with shift(&)1
...an exclamation point

Haiku #1

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 17:30:00 +0000

She sits

with no friends
and calls forth two lonely tears
that whipser

pretty please

At The Starting line

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 12:48:00 +0000

some people call it favor
others call it anointing
I call it the strength
to keep my hustle ongoing

my grandaddy made a living
and also made a difference
but my daddy wasn't grown enough
to hold down his position
i aint trippin
if much was given
much would be expected
but when you come from nothing
just surviving is respected

he never figured out
how to be a father figure
but every time he let me down
it made me dream a little bigger
if he had never made me sick
i would've never gotten better
and never would've graduated
to the next level

if you settle for surviving
without planning for success
then you'll never make a profit
you'll just makes excuses
put your finger
on the talent trigger
aim....and pull it
because a passion with no action
is a gun with no bullets
useless

i never dreamed of super stardom
i'm a regular guy
i don't need the lavish life
middle class would be fine
give me a white collar hustle
or a blue collar grind
and i can make a decent living
off my 9 to 5
but that would only be the start
to my come up climb
i'd also make a legal killin'
owning something on the side

i'm the one that broke the mold
so the swagger is mine
you can't carbon copy pioneers
i'm one of a kind
from alleghany to atlanta
sugar hill to sugar loaf
i got city slicker blood
and the soul of country folks
so a change is going to come
sam cooke said so
the revolution has begun
on your marks
get set
gone

Tragedy: A Girls Story

noreply@blogger.com (Maxx) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 12:54:00 +0000

she was a small town debutante
with dreams of the big city
from eye candy to arm trophy
she was addicted to feeling pretty

she flirted with disaster
he knew she couldn't be trusted
but she was so sexy
and desperate
that he developed an appetite for her
destruction

his poison of choice
was this volatile temptress
she agreed to play her part
so long as he paid her price:
commitment

no band-aids at home
she searched for healing in clubs
she stopped dancing to follow him
'cause the pole wasn't big enough
to cover her wounds

soon he showered her with money
making it rain on her pity party
she paraded in his shadow
dressed in Ed Hardy

a diva with designer names
to cover her frame
all she wanted was structure
a family was her fantasy
but vanity distracts her lover

his pockets couldn't fund
the spark missing from her heart
a star that doesn't twinkle
can hardly survive the dark
without getting lost

she found herself divorced
he found someone else
she keeps searching for a father
with no men to help