THIS POETRY THING


I don’t think this poetry thing is working
The pay off doesn’t seem to be rewarding
I try to speak to you in poetic tongue
Try to reach you like the melody of a song
But the message is lost in your vacant stare
So conveniently you remain unaware
I could stand tabletop, shout out and proclaim
How my life without you is not the same
Cry, die, and lie at your feet
Tell you how I feel so incomplete
But I chose to save you all the drama
Won’t put myself through such trauma
Instead I use written words to say
That there are no words to say
How much I love you
And hope you know it true

No, I don’t think this poetry thing quite hits you
I sit and wonder if you even have a clue
While mascara stained tears turn into ink
And I write poetic lines to make you think
Sheet after sheet of carefully placed words
Day after day more emotions are purged
Translating my pain in to a creative verse
Transcribe my fears and watch them disperse
Resentment and hurt has turned to anger
My pen has become a bitter stranger
I want to scream out "fuck you" as I walk away
Tell you to ‘go to hell", I don’t need you anyway
But I’ll use written words to say
That there are no words to say
How you’ve hurt me
And hope you see

Yeah, I think this poetry thing is through
Can’t seem to find a way to move you
Reaching out for a piece of your soul
Love desperately clinging to the paper you hold
No more metaphorical antidotes to construct
While waiting for something in you to erupt
Tired of throwing you eloquent lines
Hoping you’d take hold and one day climb
To a higher understanding
A much deeper meaning
Of you and I, the consequence of time
Forever embedded in the flow of a rhyme
As I use written words to say
That there are no more words to say

 
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