Every poet needs a muse
Excuse me for being so blunt
For I have found life in a new way
I want a moment to be real
This chastity of a woman I am
Strapped to many things and dreams
Excuse the rose that lures me!
This confession subsides everything
And if love should ever seek its truth
What is in a heart that\'s blue?
For I am feeling blue in a whole new way
There shall be treason throughout the day!
For the proud and the heartless fail...
Shall my muse be a part of me?
The confession is
Wrapped up in a dirty sheet
Covered in paint and heartless tears
For these heartless tears are golden,
And there is a love letter
With dirty words,
And the art of masturbation fails!
For a painter is a painter
What adultlike demographic is this?
Oh what heartless pornography
I cannot identify the glass
Filled with dirty words;
And a sudden tale defeats them all
And tomorrow shall tell the tale
Of loving worth and transparency,
Behold the flowers that fall
Upon the hill...
These sexless organs are colored pink!
Behold the tragic doll
That sits upon a hill...
Shall she fail at being one\'s muse?
Shall the flowers fall again?
My death is revolutionary
I want to fall again;
Love! Love! Love!
Do you love me
Love, love, love?
Do you love me?
Do you love me not?
For energy doesn\'t lie,
I lie in my bed sexless
I want to die alone
For I am a sexless doll
On the verge;
And this is my confession
Wrapped in a dirty sheet
Alone.