She can't comprehend my word trend
My blue pen and the dent it left in my hand
Not art she sees as she veers at my leaves
That I paint my heart's drawn blood on
She can't understand my word play
My mix of melody and irony combined in one line
The talent it takes for my brain to relate fate with mistakes
She doesn't get aroused at the spout of my mouth
Spewing words of hatred and love by the ounce
The effort I bring to depict love as rain
With no attempt to learn, she sends my confidence south.
She doesn't care to see the deepest creases of my poetry
But when it's her last call and her curtain falls,
I'm always there through it all.
Why should I watch her gallop and prance
On a stage of uniformed choreo- trance
And be her number one fan for her talent in dance
When my talents, she continues not to take a glance
I cannot love she who openly does not love poetry
For she indeed must not fully love me