Sunday, January 4, 2009

The Poet's Hypocrisy

I can create a lovely song of joy
To describe how I feel when you are near.
I'll scribble notes like a nervous schoolboy,
Then sing them out for everyone to hear.
A seduction in verse, employing all
Of my verbal tricks, every metaphore
In my arsenal firing up the tall
Towers of your heart, knocking at your door.
And you reply, with composition and
Skill, that my efforts have won your day. You
Sing your song of joy, beautiful and grand.
But that is not what I want you to do.
     Actions, not words, are what keeps my heart fed
     Don't tell me you love me, show me instead.

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