If poetry comes straight from the heart
How do I pull it straight out my ass?
What makes what I say and think
Become much stronger when they’re in ink?
Because of the diction and words I rhyme?
I don’t understand so I ask you why?
What makes the words like fuck and screw
Different from saying I wanna make love to you?
So if I tell all what I hold dear
On ink and paper it makes me a queer?
Confessing buried love creeps people out
Unless you write a poem and tell ‘em what it’s about
An ugly person telling them makes him a creep
But a pretty person saying it makes it so sweet
From all the poems you’ve read of me
You’ll see a pattern not hard to see
I try to be funny, and talk of Mary
While trying to not come off as such a fairy
I end sentences with words close in rhyme
But it doesn’t flow right most of the time
If you like my poems go tell a friend
But now’s the time this poem comes to an end