Two

I pour my heart into my verse, and why?

Because sometimes I can’t contain my thoughts.

I have to have an outlet, thus I write.

My words just start to flow—there are a lot.

Thus spilling o’er the brim they go with haste.

Collect in pools of misery and pain.

I sip from them but cannot stand the taste.

Those overwrought divisions of my brain.

If e’er I run through all of my ideas.

I simply scoop a bit of them from there.

I wrap them into abstract thought tortillas

Then dine on them to satisfy the bear.

With this most clever plan, I have such zeal

I tell the world exactly how I feel.