I told you my heart was my most valuable possession
so you stole it, broke it,
and now I'm pretty sure it's worthless.

As time goes on
There are something that won't change

Your chubby cheek rests on my arm
You constantly flicker your eyes
Your eyelashes tickle me gently
I can feel a butterfly flutter on me
A black and white butterfly

Is it a curse that words do fight
Inside a head of a poetry knight
Slaying and loving crying and joy
Now the ink shall spill tonight

Saving a maiden from dragons of lore
Sailing the oceans is never a bore
Giving love to maidens fair
Whilst caressing your soft honey hair

So many things make a poet knight
Clad in armour with pen held tight
Riding on the back of the page at night
Hoping that words can rage
Or sing a song to distant mermaids

To be a hero or villan to boot
A poem can make whatever it suits
So hold that pen like a sword
And let those words spill out
On unsuspecting hordes

Justin Bieber is no big deal
I’m not even sure he is real.
He started out as pretty decent
Have you seen anything recent?
He looks like a kid who is trying
To join the gang but is only crying;
Sitting on the sidelines sniffling.
Dressed up in gang stuff and everything.

Poor baby Justin, as rich as a king
Isn’t quite satisfied owning everything
Has to cover up his body with tattoos
Like all the real-life gang members do.
Wears a hat too big for him all sideways
Plays in the sandbox where big kids play.
Wants to look all gangster and rough
But looking like a lesbian makes it tough.

Poor Baby Biebs with his millions of fans
Three pairs of underwear and baggy pants
Grinning like he’s bashful, we know he’s not.
Far too often he has proved himself a snot.
Some of us were worried when he was a kid.
We worried nobody was careful of what he did.
So Baby Justin Bieber is a bit of a wreck
Sort of like the words crawling up his neck.

Justin Bieber makes the young girls scream.
They don’t care he’s not the angel he seems.
If only he would misbehave with them, they think.
They’d let him act the fool, smoke and stink.
Because, after all, when you’re a teen-aged star
It doesn’t really matter just how fake you are.
The thing is be to be fashionable the youthful way
And let them get a glimpse of you every day.

She is the raven queen from way north of Orleans
The kinda girl who can party
Her dark silken hair eyes wide when they glare
And lips formed of crushed cherries

With men she could see how very easily
Her form could tempt them a stray
With a twirl of her hips a kiss from them lips
They fell like dominoes

Every night she would go
To the hipest disco and stalk the bar all night
Her raven good looks she knew what she took
Was more than any woman could want

But like every tale that's told
This raven got bold
And one night she got her wings clipped
In the shape of a man who just didn't understand
The need for her to preen

No matter her dance or the voice she command
He was not for turning
Fustration set in and as the night wore thin
She found the last steps to much

And as the moonlight did gaze
Her head was a haze of mixed love and true feelings
So this wouldn't do for the raven so true
And darkness once again she fled

And I'm scared because the last thing I want to do is to hurt you.

In fourteen hundred ninety two
I gave my heart over to you.

I had three lives and you took them all;
you crushed and slashed and watched me fall.

I would sail by night; sail by day;
I used you, my star, to find my way.

My compass, my star, helped me to know
exactly which way that I should go.

I thought you'd take good care of my heart,
but instead you burned it and tore it apart.

Maybe it was love, maybe it was truth,
But all I know is that I fell hard in my youth.

In fourteen hundred ninety two
I did exactly what you shouldn't do.