The Poet

These words are not allowed

To be said out loud,

For that's how cheesy I am

About you...

And these words stand on a log

Oh what a slippery slope love is!

I cry out loud

Because I can,

No one will believe my story

Because the roses aren't in glory

And the pages fly off the shelves

Because books really do exist...

And roses take their sweet time blooming

For I am a poet of rage

Do you see the question mark on my forehead?

For it is black and uncertain

And it is written in obscurity,

How dare the flashing lights take control!

And the sun is a poet

And the cloud is a lover,

I want to be your friend...

For what poet is a poet of rhyme?

For I deem you sublime

Oh darling, do you want a lemon or a lime?

For poetry is a mystery

In fresh fruit...

For I am a romantic lover!

Do you want me to discover

The missing prose?

And I know this poem doesn't make sense

Yet it comes from my heart anyway...

For I am the poet

And I am the prose

Oh darling, do you suppose?