Rum in my cup,
the fete tun up.
I have no apologies,
for my behavior.
The crowd surrounding me,
my girls beside of me,
my man behind of me,
wining under the moonlight.
Soca blasting, vibes and hands up high!
We were living the life, no lie.
Waiting and waiting, not knowing what to expect.
It started, the painting! it flowed through the air,
along with the music, beating upon our bodies.
It was ice cold, and the best way to warm up,
was to start wukking up.
From my heart, I have no apologies.
Poetry 101 Rehab: No.