The Poet Is An Ordinary Person,
One That Uses Coupons,
Does Loads Of Laundry,
And Scrubs The Dishes,
The Poet Lives In The Body Of Another,
Who Lives Life Through Poetry,
To Understand A World Such As This,
To See The Beauty Everywhere They Go,
The Poet Uses Poetry To Express Love,
To Pour A Glass Of Nectuar From Their Sweet Souls,
To Give A Kiss Of Vocabulary To The World,
The Poet Has The Body Of A Man/Woman,**
But,
They Have A Soul Made From Unspoken *Words

The Purple Veils Of Twilight Slithered Into The Sky,
Over The Sleek Surface Of The Stream Stars Tango,
Nighttime Prayers Skim Whisps Of Navy Clouds,
In The Reflection Of His Eyes I Found Myself,
Gracious I Let His Soul Sing Me A Sacred Lullaby,
Holding On Tight To Every Word I Wished To Say,
To Every Single Bit Of Beauty I Relished In The Stars

I** Soulfully Sang To The Robins Song At Dusk As The,
Moon Slowly Arose From It's Daytime Slumber

Fields Of Dreams Spread Before Me, As I Slept,
Reminiscing In A World Of Beauty As The,
Evergreens Whispered In My Sleepy Ear, One Last,
Evening Melody, One Last Evening Prayer

Player Player, I Played Your Game,
Once Again I Lay Limp And Lame,
With A Stepped On Heart,
Which Was Caught And Tamed,
Dry And Brittle--It Waits For Rain

Player Player, You Found Me Fooled,
Helpless I Slipped Under Your Rule,
My Firey Soul,
Was Darastically Cooled,
Why Oh Why Heart Do You Fall For The Tools?

Player Player, Do You Think I Am Easy,
Like A Warm Summer Day's Cool And Breezy,
Boy, I Really Ain't So ******,
If Only You Tried To Find The Real Me

The Sunsets Were Turning Gray And Colorless,
While The Songs Of Birds Vanished More Everyday,
The Lush Green Of The Fields Turned Brindle,
As The Leaves On The Trees Grew Brown And Brittle

At Dawn Crickets Shook Off Their Frosty Legs,
While Butterflies Thawed In The Weakening Sun,
The Scent Of Fallen Leaves Had Took Hold Of The Air,
As Winter's Fingers Tickled The Rolling Hillsides