Friday, 28 March 2014

I've Confused Poetic with Moronic

Apparently, I now write poetry at 2AM when I can't sleep.



I’ve confused poetic with moronic.
You’ve got a heartbeat and I don’t want it.

Can't you fathom your own separate ways?
I’m not looking for a clue, a hero or a maze.

You keep telling me you’ve got the answer,
But these questions are growing like a cancer.

How do you still think we’re on the same page?

It takes more than a ship to sail the high seas,
Wait - there I go again, assuming you get me.

Something’s hiding in the bushes, deep in those thorns,
Telling me I should know better; telling me that you’re no unicorn.

Stop.

That was never what you asked.
To keep my head down, to shut up, to do my duty, and fill your flask?

I think not, dear sir, you’ve had your ride.

Fuck off to your ponies, your Wonderland, and your pride.