I'M Not Done With You Poem by Lee Crowell

Hey pretty mama don't you poison me
with your fear that the world is gasping one last breath.
There's no wolf out there mama.
Ain't nothing stalking me,
and this web that you spin will surely tangle you to death.
C'mon let's find a trail tonight,
sleep out under the sky.
Throw your possessions to the wind.
I'll show you a fortune that no one can buy.
There's a whisper in the trees.
The night owl feels it too,
and there's a soft place by the fire.
And I'm not done with you.

Yes the wolves are gone mama.
They got no use for you or me.
But that little girl of yours,
ain't she something to see?
You know she's just anxious to be so tough.
Listen to her mama,
don't she talk so rough?
She got the jungle tattoos.
Ain't much flesh left to use.
And you're pierced by my gaze as I stare at your weary face.
Go ahead and dance with her mama.
It ain't no ugly disgrace.
When you sway to the motion
it's an exciting view.
My veins are pulsing to the beat
and I'm not done with you.

Your daddy works the numbers.
His title is his favorite name.
He explains all the moves
while everyone watches the game.
He controls our thoughts.
Look at all that cash.
Put your purse back mama.
You got nothing to flash.
And the Fulton Street bodies
they're so finely preserved.
You can just scream mama,
it's so rightly deserved.
You're trying to believe
but no one's asking you to.
I'll take my water from the stream
and I'm not done with you.