No, *I* am a poet.

Nothing can perish until it survives
Once friends into lovers, then torn into lies.
A flame without passion is simply hot air,
What more can I say? You just were not there.

I’ll give you 4 stanzas, in this my last verse
Escaped from your prison, a journey through words
You said that you loved me in dollars and cents
But when the time came, I’m still paying rent.

Give me three spikes, and a pair of long boards
While I’m twisting thy words, allow a few more
I’ve abandoned your drama, it wore me quite thin
Left needing to lose, to learn how to win.

I’m doing quite well now, Thanks for the leave
Much time has been wasted, and the ‘truth’ does deceive
The sides of this story, are now two and flat
Our book has been closed, let us leave it at that.

–SJ 2008

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