Fireflies fill my mind, sparkling, glowing dark beauty. Visions of them stay so long, joyful singing dark songs. Oh poet, why not any better traits? Words and rhymes on top of many mistakes. My mind shines, but not the same as yours, a poet in life, a poet at birth. Oh dear poet keep your head out from the clouds, but that's where I feel most at home, with my pen and my paper, my words can explode. How can someone truly love a poet? I ask myself everyday, college and sincerity, oh what a struggle they play. He kisses my skin, deep and passionate, but never does he make me feel as good as I do when I write, I write about him. The sparkle in his eyes, but that's all I do, write and write and write. How hard it must be to love a poet like me. With my head in the clouds and the fireflies I let dance in my mind.