Thoughts from the head of a poet

I can't play guitar

I can't really sing

People will look at me

And say, "what's that thing?

We should dance for him like a puppet

I won't bleed for you without your say"

And I say, "stare at me with a different set of eyes

And burn me with a different flame


Eyes like a hawk

Nose like a ferret

Not my fault that you want to beat me up

It's just part of your merit

I won't eat because I don't like the cook

But I'll spend the money on a music book

I'll die from malnutrition and people can have a look


The people do whatever they want to do

But they'll do whatever I tell them to

It's funny all this freedom you know

I think it's all beginning to show

Choice and reasons to hate

Well I say give everyone their own fate

If they know what's coming they might just chain themselves to the gate


What I'm saying makes no sense

I just do it to try and appear clever

And hope that some dark haired woman will come over and say

"I like what you do and my name's Heather

But your rhymes are all out of sync

You should sort that out some day

People might think your armour has a chink"


And then we'll get married and have eighteen kids

I'll sell five on purely for profit

And then I'll go kiss the next person I see

Just as long as she has jet black hair

And her name happens to be Katrina

But I guess that may take me a while


So I'm writing this poem that might be about me

Maybe to prove that I'm not a she

Or maybe because the words in my head drive me crazy

I'd tell you more but I'm too goddamned lazy

So I'll leave you with this, I'm not a boy who wants to be a man

I'm not a man who wants to be a boy

I'm just in between, waiting to ascend again