Don't analyse me,
nor criticise me.
What you to see is what you get.
It matters not a jot to me how much you try to extricate.
I love the fact the world is trying,
*******, it's great.
I analyse myself regularly.
For once in a lifetime,
I actually know me.

The dark poet has a softer side,
It's hiding.
There it will stay,
it's really not playing today.
Sometimes it hides away.
Every so often, a visible ****** of a mischievous child at play.
Once in a blue moon a poetic stroppy mare, will kick up her heels and run through the sand pit,
Kicking at dust, and twirling her hair.
it's too short to be a mane at the moment,
But it sure as hell will grow again,
And I'll go dancing in the rain.
With or without my pen!
(C) Livvi