The Game

The Game

They say it's is a habit when it's repeated,
And the count reaches 21,
Well, I can tell you without being conceited,
That this habit is way past begun,
There is the curtain call, please be sitted,
Drum roll please, Choir begin to hum.

Even as it starts again, I have been here before,
I cannot resist to show my mastery of the game,
I see the invite and know not to open that door,
And yet to this stage I return again,
My intention was to let the other know,
That the invitation did not interest me, not even for the fame.

It's futile, all efforts shall go to waste,
As others watch, I draw closer even as I dance away,
Like an addict taking in just a tiny little taste,
Just to remind themselves why they worked so hard to stay away,
As the strong will is mangled into some sort of paste,
I seem to offer myself as the perfect prey.

I could have kept quiet, been like wall paper,
Maybe I would have stayed out like I thought I could,
But the need to prove my intelligence to my own preditor,
To show we were at Par, I too could pull a quick move,
Has me losing control, and I'm no longer the author,
Of the game, I play and have so much to lose.

So here I am, a player in the game,
And now I gain even more practice,
I know that afterwards, nothing will be the same,
And through repeated playing comes the mastery,
I should have turned and gone back how I came,
Instead of my exhibition that ignites but brings such misery.

So here it is, the cunning, the flattery,
Tactics that would topple Alexander the Great,
Granted, I am the master, but here's life's mockery,
As I conquer, there's little satisfaction in saying "Check-Mate".

Terida

I am proud, I am chaste

We love being flirtatious, it's what makes a woman attractive (if done tastefully, of course). Not pushing it but doing it all the same. Be warned, it is only fun and we shall not invite you to the most intimate part of us just because you would like to have a refreshing dip. And we are not sorry about it. But we may at least try to explain it. It does not make us less feminine and desirable...in fact, its the very essence of it.

Proud, Chaste

In your defeat, you show distaste
Cause little you have conquered, in this chase
You try to get me all caught up in your pace
But I am proud, I am chaste

I will sit still, as you admire me like a vase
Might even let you go as far as touch my face
But will never go as far as coming back to your place
For I am proud, and I am chaste

So as I listen to you try and make your case
From you "honour chivalry" to "we're a special case"
You react to this situation, with such little grace
When I am proud, and I am chaste

Go on with your taunts, say what you have to say
From "You're not my type" to "You must be gay"
I deem it such a small fee to pay
For being proud and being chaste
Terida

The Tango

Don't you just highly dislike it the way us human beings have to tiptoe around each other sometimes? Or just how someone can hold such power when it comes to the opinion they have of you. Especially when in a relationship, there are these moments when you are in a limbo and things can swing either way. There can be acceptance or condemnation. If you know you are not perfect (and your imperfections are a far cry from being considered "cute") and those imperfections may expose a great flaw in your character, in the quest to become a better person you may feel the need to share this. You pray for understanding but also understand if forgiveness doesn't exactly flow in your direction. As you wait.... a lot goes on in your mind....

The Tango

She looks up, he looks down
She cannot tell, if its a smile or frown
She wonders, for she does not know
where he shall accept, or even condone
The part of her she has just shown
And so it begins, the dance, the tango

She fidgets, she bites her nails
He's cool and calm, no wind in his sails
She wonders whether to be strong, or act frail
And thinks of all, that she has just said
Looks at the meaning, at every little detail
And wonders if to her coffin, she's hammered the last nail

She can take it back, say it was a test
If her confession, he will not accept
Even better, she could pretend
That it was due to the deception of a friend
Down the wrong road she had been led
Why does she feel, that things are hanging by a thread?

The ball is now rolling around in his court
He can make her happy or really distraught
She's ready for it..... then again, she's in doubt
Damn this dance, her feet are just skipping about
Then he looks at her, and stretches his arm out
And she thinks in sheer relief, she might cry out loud
Terida