Arghhh!!!

Why does poetry have such a hold on me
I'm so rhyme blind, that's all I can see
I spend most days down on my knees
Hoping against hope for some relief

Arghhh!!!

My sanity is quickly moving deep South
This taxi of poetry won't let me out
As the meter is turning like a crazed spinning wheel
I'm not sure anymore how I should feel

Arghhh!!!

Is there a doctor in the house
Or at least someone who could help me out
Put me to pasture where I can be free
Instead of inside shackled to this poetry

...she kept her heart on a chain
never let it run mad like it was born to do
she kept her head in a box
never let it see the light of day
she has keepsakes for a heart
and romance novels on shelves
little dragons decorate her hallway
with little knights to slay them
natural and homespun as can be
she lives in her books
and lives for the day prince charming will come her way
she knits and tinkers her days away
always busy never stops
she is a model prisoner in her homemade jail
ever ready to pardon the thief for a kiss
ever ready to take the burden from the beast
she thinks someday will come tomorrow
and itll be better than promised
itll be sunshine cakes and sweet wine
and she will be done doing time for being a lover not a sinner
she kept her heart on a chain
and her head in a box
and never gave chase to the wild boys
now grown and old

When you start to crave the rave
That mankind sometimes tosses your way
And you loose sight of the reason why
You do what you do when this first came to light

When it soon becomes your goal to receive the praise of man
Instead of making it more for the gift in hand
It's a problem that's festered from the beginning of time
That spreads like the plague through the heart and the mind

You may try and surrender, raise the white flag
Telling yourself there'll be no more of that
Still in the heat of the battle you take the enemies hand
And once again crave the rave of man

why a poet?
because a poet
hears the words
which sing the
purest harmonies
because a poet
paints their portraits
in pastels
of phrases
because a poet
dances their agonies
into leaps of faith
and pirouettes
of passion
because a poet
sees
the beauty
in the commonplace
and captures
the moment
in a snapshot
of ink and white
because a bloodless world
cuts itself
a thousand times

and the poet bleeds

You're a one night stand
But we spent too many nights
I lost count of it.

You're that unexpected kiss
On a drunken wasted night
Of vomits and *****.

You're that awkward hi
Exchanged by strangers who
Thought they both knew each other
But were clearly mistaken for another.

You're the bruise that turns blue
When I accidentally bump my leg
On the corner of the bed.

You're the scar that I never
Knew I had.

You're the bittersweet taste in
My mouth every morning.

You're the last thought lingering
In my head before slumber takes me
And you're the vagueness that
Haunts me in my dreams.

You're the scalding hot shower
In a cold freezing morning.

You're the boiling tea that numbs
My tongue for the rest of the day.

You're the obsession
I will never learn to let go of.

You're that person I will
Never get to call mine.

You're the one that got away.

Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.