I know I say that words are only words
And that they need to be poetic right
They flit around my head like little birds
They may not be sonnettic, but they might
If little songs are all my words can make
I’ll sing them like a Poe to my Lenore
But if the golden bowl is bound to break
I’ll sell my words like some sonnettic whore
They’re only words, but please come watch them whirl
Not everyone can see them like you do
They’re only wisdom to some silly girl
I won’t believe that silly girl is you!
Sometimes I write poetic wrong, or shit
But if you read my words, I’ll never quit!