2/22/2013

I live a poetic life,
Full of joy, full of strife.
My years are all metered time,
My days somehow seem to rhyme.

My thoughts are stanzas of four lines,
My speech is full of abstract signs.
I hear words as though color,
Music fuels me like no other.

The steady rhythm of my feet,
Sometimes loses iambic beat.
My dances fluid like silver truth,
Cheeky remarks prove my youth.

My sins are masked hyperbole,
Smudged perfection, italic gray.
My faults revealed as similes,
Numerous as the fallen leaves.

My food tastes of deeper meaning,
Drink like conclusions redeeming.
Adverbs are like catching the flu,
Adjectives sadly set me askew.

Trying to live a verse on love,
Reading a book on what's above.
A letter, a line, that's just me,
Because I live a life of poetry.