Poet in five letters.
Throw me. I fly better
with blessings from the river.
No love letters delivered
to the address
of those vexing
me for plain text
meshed together cleverly.
Distressed heavily
over the lame sex you're treasuring.
Stressed Poet.
Less Poets
would admit the same
that the best Poets
get noticed
for less in their name
unless the eyes observe thighs
or the lengthy protrusion.
Confusion I can't salve.
We give the world two halves
but they just eat dessert.
Overt this message going forward.
Nothing worse in the least
than viewed as merchants in streets
looking to sell or compete
when living hell to complete
and feel like more than stories told
of the daring and the bold
silk array,
PDA,
flirt and play to get you wet,
skirt and stay until you fret
and other things that I regret
you giving full attention to.
Truth be told,
It's overdue.
Rest my hair to fit the crown.
Cultured thief.
Sir Thomas Crown
here to extract your expectation,
prediction and stale elation.
Without lust,
You're bored, I see.
Some of you will grow bored with me.
More perceived as chores
to be ignored but I implore:
Look past lapels and satin
and gimmicks your mind is wrapped in.
See it all for the first time.
Far beyond the words that rhyme
between lines
and behind the grace.
Drew this line
just to mark the place
where you first realized
that the one trick rhyme
serves a one track mind
that should do more with less time.
Poet in five letters.
Can't search for five better
Deliberately
Evoking
Visionary
Influence in
Numbers.
We Are Timeless...
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
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