i am getting bored
using the same old words
the same old cords
the same old lines
time after time time time

is it such a crime
to always want to find
in this demented mind of mine
the perfect rhyme of rhymes

i maneuver it
so it all will fit
onto the page i've writ
for the perfect bit
perhaps a major hit

but i still am bored
with the heights i've soared
is someone keeping score
in this poetic realm
white knuckles at the helm

i steer off  course
as my one recourse
to get me through all this
goodbye with a kiss
back to poetic bliss