Can’t Marry A Poet Challenge 

It seems trivial to think her so elegant and refine,
With her wordplay and grand intellect,
You would think she’s Maya Angelou.
But, when you see one, run
Run like the wind.
I can’t marry a poet
For when we lock eyes and I see her beauty ravishing my soul,
She’s thinking of the next word that rhymes with a gaze.
When the sweet words fall from her lips,
It’s hard to tell if she’s practicing eloquentness,
For it is flawless.
What becomes of me,
when all her time is spent with the ink
All her effort are scribbled in paper
All her world is filled with the stanza,
what becomes of me, for she’s my world.
I can’t marry a poet
For her truth is surrounded by a bodyguard of lies,
And I can’t even tell the difference.
Her fangs are laced with sugar,
When she bites, I feel pleasure whilst I bleed.
I can’t marry a poet
Because she loves her poem more than she loves me.
© Colonel Charisma…. 21.09.2020
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