Those who have been conned
Will never admit
That’s how it be
And will really believe
The fool is me
And who knows
Maybe that is
The way it be

It hit the skids
Heading towards the *****
Of what can maybe happen
When you start talking about it
Led via vindictive
To a place unrecognizable
Becoming
Becoming
Less than we should be
Over the promise someone else
Will have it worse than me
And in knowing that
I will gladly
Pass my vote to thee
Make a big show of it
How strong we be
And put an end to our collective
Victim mentality

Slowly she dances away
But she’ll sway back
Any song
Any day
He says

Dancing expressively
Breaks from rules
Occasionally
Blending what could be
With reality
Penning odes of praise
For what should be
As written by me
Myself right there
For all to see
Maybe someday soon
These poems
Will make me think
Of someone other than you
Or it could be
These poems remind you
Of someone other than me

I suppose it’s a ****** for me
That you’re still
The most beautiful human being
I’ve ever seen
And maybe it’s a blessing
The ugly parts
Frailty really
And yet you’re still so beautiful to me
As imperfect as you be

It wasn’t a let down for me
It was a drop from a great height
Into the Dead Sea
All my fault, really
For seeing a man
So much better than he be
I suppose now, at least
I can call myself free

Beautiful muse
What I do to you
Permissionlessly
I bend you and shape you
To the will of me
According to who
I imagine you’d be
I wonder what you think
Of what I think I see
Maybe someday
You will tell me