you're sweet but not perfect
or maybe perfectly sweet
although being perfect
is never entirely sweet
thus you are not perfect
but surely sweet
fooling me’nto believing
you're sweetingly perfect
while perfecting the art
of never being sweet
a friend once told me
never ever fall in love with a poet
he'll eat your eyes at breakfast
have your heart cooked for lunch
and in the evening he'll listen
quietly your laments
while drinking a glass full of tears
your tears
now this shit might be true or not
one thing's for certain
i've since written some poems
and always been keeping an empty glass nearby
This is what keeps me going
It is my path of knowing,
My essence belongs to me
I'm not bound to pay no fee,
From under my skin I slowly emerge
New-borns from myself I endessly forge,
Fractions of one-second emotions die
One by one in darkness they fly,
Flawless beliefs begin to cristalize
My "I" is non of your concern how it dies!
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