I know I made you
Happier
Than you've ever been
Unfortunately
For both of us
You played at love to win
The thought that you can win at love
Surely is a lie
The best you can hope for
Is to bring it to a tie

If a man tells you
He loves you
And you didn't know it
Already
He is not telling
The truth

My favorite color is orange
But that won't help me here
Nothing rhymes with orange
My new favorite color is clear
It's simple in its brilliance
Ugh! Forget it, that won't do
For the purpose of this poem
My favorite color is blue

Cried for help
Except you don't need help
You crave attention
Pulling at heartstrings
For (What the hell is it really for?)
Someone to give you a thought
I guess
Seems futile
You're gonna have to give it back real soon
But I hope it made you feel loved
All that short-lived attention
From all those uninterested  strangers
Whatever gets your rocks off

I don't employ the thesaurus
To write my poetry
False airs are not invisible
It's not snooty words we seek
We want to feel the boiling of your blood
The heartsongs of your childhood
Loves you've lost
Loves you gained
Mistakes you'd never make again
Who took your virginity
And why'd you made that choice
What you someday hope to be
Sweetheart, use that vòice!
Be you, with words you know and use
What have you got to lose?

There are two kinds of poets
One who says in ten words, that which needed twenty
Or one who uses five hundred words
For that which could have been said with seven

There are times when it sounds to me, a poet is speaking to a controlling, self-centered, narcissistic partner, and it turns out they are speaking to God.  
Love God by turning Her into an *******?
God probably wants to be worshipped, not idolized.

I appreciate your worship
Until you are a hypocrite about it
I cannot understand why humankind
Has been such a failure
At religion
We fill it with hypocracy
Probably because we are
Unwilling to make
Sacrifice

I'm a poet who has no idea
How to write poetry
I don't understand meter
Or metaphor
I just write what I feel
And try to explore

I'm about to reveal to you the worst rhyme ever uttered...
Get ready, here it comes
And please avoid excited jitters
The worst rhyme ever uttered is....
"Spitters are quitters"

Everyone ignores your cries for Help
This vexes you greatly
You ignore
All your other cries for help
More than everyone else can

Get over ya bad self
I knew you'd be a zing bat
I saw you
In a t-shirt that said M-I-L-F.

Everyone is mean to me
I heard her oft complain
Everyone always causes me
Nothing but hurt and pain
Everyone just hurts me
That's what people do
I didn't know how to tell her
If it's everyone, it's you

If you ever saw this
You'd know it was for you
You rocked my world
I look for your face
When I know you're not there
I find others attractive
When they remind me of you
I miss your wise-*** attitude
I miss your beautiful brain
I miss how special you made me feel
You sincerely thought
I was a gift to the world
I think you might be
Irreplaceable to me

Maybe one day you will see this
And probably know it's for you
Of all the loves I've ever known
You were my most true

You know she don't even let him get on top, anymore.

I read your poem
And thought
"Wow, impressive for a teenager"
Then I saw you were sixty two

Tell me something new
Or at least something about you
Make me think, or **** me off
Stick a lump up in my throat
Move me, groove me
Make me hit that note
Disturb me
Stir me
Ride me, rock the boat
Put the shivers up my spine
Make me miss what once was mine
Give me something to relate
Make me feel I cannot wait
Bring the tears brim in my eyes
Make my heart grow super-size
Or wish upon a wistful dream
Believe in things I've never seen
Laugh or cry, and not know why
Wonder what it's like to die
This will not be easy for you to do
But as a poet, we expect this of you

Get over yourself
Swollen head Boo
I can see how your biggest fan is you
I respect confidence
But you take it too far
Your ego's much greater than you really are
You are pretty good
I will admit
But honey, you ain't got the patent on
Being The ****
Believe that your special
I'm all for that
But your greatness don't need to make others flat
There is room at the top
For more than you two
(And by "you two," I mean
Your ego and you)

I wonder how long a **** will stink under the covers
Does ****-stink disappear
Or does it spend all night
Just lingering there

Come on, baby
I gotcha number
I know you got mine, too
So many swishy, squishy things
The two of us could do
Dig our toes into the sand
Get lost all night in Neverland
Get beamed up, and Scotty too
(Though we'll ditch him, it's only us two)
Find some old time sweet beat box
Dance until we wear out our socks
Hit the ol' pinball machine
And at the pool table we try to keep it clean
Laugh and dance until nearly two
First dates gotta end sometime boo.

He's one of those guys who thinks
He's being totally ****
Except women get queasy
Reading about his
"Quart of love juice."
That he honestly believes
We are dying to ingest
Dude has watched more ****
Than live *****

Whenever I see a dog lick itself
I can't tell if I'm disgusted
Or jealous