Sometimes, the day can make you do the Twist; sometimes the Shout. A heart, trying to keep a soul-full groove… on point. It’s not hard, to get it so twisted. The heart, the soul; crossing into the wrong genre. A soulful version, of what looks like the Two Step… away. The DJ, puts on the wrong track; a sad Country song. So, back, back; back and forth. A broken heart, the about face, and the about to be loosing it. A heart loaded for bear, to unload what burdens the chest? The becoming, a soul getting ready to display; what becomes of a pistoled off heart. The shoot em up dance, bang, bang. Shots fired, the shooting from the Hip, to the Hop… on the self righteous train. Toot, toot; your own horn. The likened sounds, to we live in a broken world. Here’s the Twist, it doesn’t matter. If you live in the wild Western Hemisphere, we all bleed the same. For a heart, to see through the right perspective. We should never get it Twisted. Thinking a soul can ever see clearly, trying to look at life; through a tainted heart. So many, love to replay a throwback. But, why should it always be; reliving a brand new Funk. You have to move past, to truly get past; what gets a heart so Twisted!
Indulge me, as I share with you this Twist; better yet, let’s call this the bliss. A heart that’s been there, done that. Young, and thinking you’re Hip. But, here’s the Tip; love’s a intimate slow dance. Every day, yes; you have to do the Hopping, the none Stopping. To always notice, my baby Doll; if the head starts Bopping. The marriage dance, it’s a balancing act. But, it doesn’t have to be; a heart walking a tightrope, with a soul Twisting in the wind. Sometimes, I surely get to admire; watch how her neck works. All while trying, not to get my heart Twisting. Seeing her brown eyes, and how they roll. But, that just a reminder; I have my own role to play, being a loving husband. Thirty two years, how long my heart has been in this cherished role. Act one, Seeing her two. Not about the Acting, but what becomes of my Actions. When we first met, I called her my candy girl. Then my honey, became my sweet lady. Let me tell you, every bottled up, tear comes out easily, with every Twist. To avoid a mind, blowing a cap; a heart busting out an ill advised wRap. Then the break down, dancing, the want to be free-styling. A soul Twisting, on what becomes a heart feeling… absolutely floored. A heart Twisted up, trying to figure out? How to make a clean break, from a riddled relationship?