I
Keats I can feel your pain deep below
Poetry is slowly killing me, Oh the flow
Help me find the musical glow
It’s up to her music’s poetry to save me
Or is it all in my mind?
Or is it to unkind?
I could do better than that-ignoring her-
II
I relax in my poetic space for awhile
Looking at this page of doubt
Fixating my mind in spheres
The glorious sound of music’s hell
She screams in bed while I play her shell
I think about all of her leers and fears-
III
******* her makes me move
Playing the lute, or should I say electricity
I only found out she only knew
I’m only there for her new-news
Irresistible love games and screws
She’s trying my luck- It’s time to leave-