Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
"Don't Pick A Fight With A Poet"
by
Madeline Peyroux

When you're walking on the street,
and the people that you meet,
make you want to start a big fight,
'cause they talk as if they're so right.
There is one thing to remember,
in case you haven't heard:
You can **** a mighty emperor,
but you cannot smite a word.

So, don't pick a fight with a poet.
Don't raise your hand on a whim.
Whether it's wrong or it's right,
there's a lesson in life,
and to learn it, you have to give in,
cause the poet knows you can't win.

When you're twitching at the bar,
No one knows who you are,
and you want to prove them all wrong,
you think you are so strong.
You can try to make them listen.
You can try to be the boss,
but the storyteller is the one
who calls the toss.

So, don't pick a fight with a poet.
Don't raise your hand on a whim.
Whether it is wrong or it's right,
Whether it's wrong or it's right
there'll be a lesson tonight,
and to learn it you'll have to give in,
'cause a poet knows you can't win.

Over there in the corner with a Cheshire grin
making rhyme out of broken hearts
cryin' the hymn.
And two tokes from a good time,
a toast away from fist flying,
congregating the world
with a paper and pen.

Don't pick a fight with a poet.
Don't raise your hand on a whim.
Whether it's wrong or right,
there's a lesson in life,
and to learn it, you'll have to give in,
cause a poet knows, you can't win.

Madeline Peyroux
I was never satisfied with being the observer
or the healer
I wanted to be healed
I wanted to be fun to watch like the many people I observed and loved at a distance
I had a habit of seeing things from one set of eyes only
I tried on different masks
I felt lonely
I felt numb
There was nothing to me
except speculation
But I pushed this away
It only came in between helping others
I used to think I lost myself in guiding others
But I had never found myself in the first place

Reflective states would come in waves
But I had forgotten how to swim
The day I fell into the sea

It may have been a river
But I couldn’t tell
Because I was just a pebble

— The End —