I Give Up On Poetry, It's Frustrating.

Having a voice's worth more than a soul, when you've sold that off for love and rock&roll.

It doesn't matter, let it be. Today there's nothing wrong with me.

And when they come and when they lay, we'll wait for sleep and get away.

These words that flow straight from my lips, they'll jump on paper like vivid ticks.

And when this stops making sense turn it over to side B, this is how I get you to fall in love with me.

I hate poetry, all the rhyme.

It's all too planned, no freedom aligned.

It seems to happen, I think I can

Put a smile on your lips, and a quarter in this can.

With all the talk about "the flow", if I got this skill I just don't know.

I think finally my sky has found a star.

In between the silly smiles and the planned nerd, food, paint wars.

Still got some skills i'm yet to hone.

But I can safely say, where you are is where i'll call home.

And fuck, I can't find anything that goes with "I love you".

I give up on poetry, it's frustrating.