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Poem: Thought I Was A Love Coach (DAY 2)

‘You must catch the mind before you nest for the heart’
My contagious egocentric predicament and now he feels her heart on his fingertips,
Coaching his courtship like I’m steering a casanova cart,
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Blue eyes, too wise and hairs so long they almost touched her hips,
Feeding his silver plate of infatuation gold plated with fake love and Godforbidden whoredom,
I coached him still with a covering of psychological strategies on a bed of philosophical wisdom.

Time goes and like game of thrones another queen but same casanova king,
Heard the previous girl was left pregnant feeling seas of guilt on a broken bucket of courtship,
My classified heart but transparent tears charged of being an accomplice in hurting a human-being,
Bankrupt of impenitence no more loans for flirt advise and professorship.

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T’was love at first sight when winds of life shook hands between my eye and the queens eye.
Her thighs before the sun like airplane wings and seeing my imaginations choose a wedding tie,
heart pumping ingredients of sentimentality as the mind wispers ‘it’s now the coach’s ball’,
Too sad it took a limbic brain choking grandiloquence and cold feet to find out I wasn’t a coach at all.

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(Image Source: 2nd image from community.today.com)

{Reeding notes: Intermediate}

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