They’re only words, you shouldn’t have to pay
I’m just a guy who puts them in a row
Poetic whores take money to display
Their feelings, through the words they choose to show
My words are free to anyone who reads
My words are not my words, they’re everyone’s
Although my Muse reveals them, she concedes
I’m just a damn good poet, failure shuns
Like Beauty, Peace, and Strength, I seek the best
Superlatives are subject to our views
And yet she takes the time to grant, invest
In me. I love her gifts; I love my Muse
So, if you want to buy these words, you can
I’ll buy my Muse some flowers; I’m her man.