If all good love poems rest on metaphors Then I'll write with one that you could've searched the world three times over for and never found before
like the last puppy lying on its on back in front of a convenience store the one that was unaccounted for
that little crease on the windshield the one your wipers could never reach or that annoying kid with ADD the one your teacher could never teach (me)
time is at once infinite and definite life is short, yet is the longest thing we'll ever do why must we lust for forever when we know a dinner for two at 2 would do
Prince and Princess charming aren't walking through that door which makes me question what we believe in happily ever after for and I won't become a cynic and if only a writer that could never write is deemed a critic then i'll drop my pen and drink all the ink in it
love is a four letter bubble what looks to be a meandering ascent into nothingness to those outside but is a self sustaining world to those who inhabit it
what good is an art if one can not master it
face it a critic's a poet and a writer that could never quit