by Patricia Parker

Created on: January 02, 2011

You are poetry but I don't rhyme

We're out of step most all of the time

You are beauty and I am the beast

I am leftovers and you are the feast

You write touchingly beautiful words

I am full of whey and curds

Your poetic sonnet's make people cry

I can't  write so I don't try

You have magic in your soul

Mine comes with a deep black hole

You are the wordsmith that I'd like to be

But I'm happily content when you love me

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