If all good love poems
rest on metaphors
Then I'll write with one
that you could've searched
the world three times over for
and never found before
like the last puppy
lying on its on back
in front of a convenience store
the one that was unaccounted for
that little crease on the windshield
the one your wipers could never reach
or that annoying kid with ADD
the one your teacher could never teach
(me)
time is at once infinite and definite
life is short, yet is the longest thing we'll ever do
why must we lust for forever
when we know a dinner for two at 2 would do
Prince and Princess charming aren't walking through that door
which makes me question what we believe in happily ever after for
and I won't become a cynic
and if only a writer that could never write is deemed a critic
then i'll drop my pen
and drink all the ink in it
love is a four letter bubble
what looks to be
a meandering ascent into nothingness to those outside
but is a self sustaining world to those who inhabit it
what good is an art
if one can not master it
face it
a critic's a poet and a writer
that could never quit
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
If all good love poems
rest on metaphors
Then I'll write with one
that you could've searched
the world three times over for
and never found before
like the last puppy
lying on its on back
in front of a convenience store
the one that was unaccounted for
that little crease on the windshield
the one your wipers could never reach
or that annoying kid with ADD
the one your teacher could never teach
(me)
time is at once infinite and definite
life is short, yet is the longest thing we'll ever do
why must we lust for forever
when we know a dinner for two at 2 would do
Prince and Princess charming aren't walking through that door
which makes me question what we believe in happily ever after for
and I won't become a cynic
and if only a writer that could never write is deemed a critic
then i'll drop my pen
and drink all the ink in it
love is a four letter bubble
what looks to be
a meandering ascent into nothingness to those outside
but is a self sustaining world to those who inhabit it
what good is an art
if one can not master it
face it
a critic's a poet and a writer
that could never quit