The drama is so gorgeous--
I look outside and I see poetry;
What kind of humanesque is this?
The defiant words that we speak,
And there is romance between the stars
Between the stars I live,
Preferably the drama exceeds
What truth shall come from this? I wonder
For tomorrow the romance speaks upon words
For words are poetic, I suffice
And what poetic thinking gets the body roaming?
My romance breeds an ignorant masterpiece
Am I a virgin to it all?
For this question relies on my poetic livelihood
For I shall come alive after all;
And tomorrow is the perfect day
The perfect day of sorts,
How can I compare thee
To all poetry?
I wonder if we are a reckoning of souls--
At last, at last...a lullaby of sorts
Put my words on a page, and scream
What solo poet holds up the moon
While being thrown around like a rag doll?
For we are all poetic souls in triumph
Yet in tragedy we know our stories;
Behold the pages of our lullabies--
They sing to us in a heart of gold
Drama...drama folds in the sticks
Between the stabbing of swords
How shall we win in a poetry challenge
When the challenge is within us?
And we all attract psychopaths
With our brilliant words,
For brilliant words never die.
And let me consider this,
May a flower grow in a poetic thought
For we all grow brilliantly under the bridge
What shall become of a rose\'s conspiracy?
What shall become of poets in the future?
What shall become of me
In the latter years?
And to the man who has my rose
One day my rose will come true...
Marry me poetically in my sight
Poetic rings speak forever
I shall write my words forever in your debt
Will you please forgive me for this piece?