Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Poor Soul...

You poor, dull, unfortunate soul
Do I have you that well snowed?
To have you think that I don't burn
With lazer like precision?
To have you think my blood does not boil lava hot?
That my eyes don't have the gravity of Jupiter?
That I didn't learn the song of sirens?
That my coarse hair is not in fact a lion's mighty mane?
That my lips are not as soft as orchids' petals and as intoxicating as deep red wine?
And that my kindness isn't as sweet as lemonade on the hottest day beneath a tree of shade as you calmly sway as the music plays your favorite old school tune?
Though your ignorance could fill oceans,
Can I not persuade you like the moon?
You poor, dull, unfortunate knave
Are you still your ego's slave?
Are you fooled 'cause I behave so tranquil in your presence?
Have you yet to figure out my power is independent of your approval or apparent lack thereof?
The greatest superpower in the universe is love
And this I've got in spades
It's not my fault you remain...unfazed
You poor, dull, blind, unfortunate soul.