Poetry, what cursed art are thou -
Tangling me upon rhymes now!
Throw my tortured life into the abyss.
I've had just enough of this.
Leave your enthralling rhymes
To their respective confines,
And permit me to the liberty of prose.
How eloquently peaceful are those
With their measured lines
And beautifully direct designs.
Such tales are told,
Epics detailing the lives of old.
Swords and damsels ornament those words
As do horses of galavanting herds.
But, ah! Poetry, you infernal beast.
Here you draw me, whom I like you least,
Towards thine seductive soul
And require such a steep toll
That my pitiful heart be laid bare.
Well (laughs) it seems I'm forever yours...

I swear.