I wrote this a long time ago, back when I first started writing down my thoughts in rhyme scheme.
Maybe it means something to you. It does to me.
Hello, Queen, It’s me again-
The ivory chested elf.
Won’t you try earnest to love me today?
Or will you put me back up on your shelf?
You’ve accidentally picked me up,
But don’t throw me back in with your toys;
I know you didn’t mean to grab me,
But I’m not another one of those boys.
To your grasp I’ll grapple too long,
And to your words I’ll sup;
But when conversation’s well will and does become dry,
So also will Prince Like’s au fait cup.
I wrote this next one right after the last one. Interesting intersection of thoughts. I sounded mad in this one!
Where is your real Life?
Is it in your pocket or at a party or something?
Because, surely, this can’t be it.
It’s too superficial. It’s a shriveled old peel in the sun of Western days, smattered with tar.
Your desires are not really your own.
It’s okay, though, I know someone told you what to think, what to want…
They did it to you back when just crawling was enough.
“No need to jump, dear boy! Just take it easy and switch off. You’ll be me in no time flat!”
“No need to jump…”
But that is what you’re doing, you know?
Your every step is a swift leap through a flaming hoop,
held in arrogant and confident and honest display
by Ringmaster Pop of the Quick Love Cirque, coming to your town soon!
Turn your own knobs and sing your own melody.
Walk right past his rings,
and I guarantee
it will blow his mind.
Because his mind that needs to be blown.
His reign needs to end,
And then He’ll need a friend.
Hmm… What does this mean?
I think my writing abilities have come a long way since these days. Maybe I’ll post something new on here, if it’s not too honest and revealing…
