It’s tempting/
2 b responsible/
and grown-up/
and not think about/
24 hours ago,/
when I,/
with a moan,/
and a loud groan,/
got up/
and stayed up,/
a much better groanup!

You may dislike me/
for my brilliance and honesty./
But one thing I do/
is speak true/to you./

When no one else will,/
I’m always and still/
your bitter pill.

It seems hard/
when u try 2 be inspired/
4 a parent,/
a child,/
a lover,/
a friend,/
and they won’t listen,/
won’t consider,/
won’t discuss./
Is that like God/
and us?

Why do/
I still think of U/
when I know Ur busy/
and can’t really miss me?/

Even tho I think U should/
and wish U would./
Sometimes my fantasy/
is that you dream of me.

He tickles her spine/
and splits her apart. It’s not/
Art, but she likes it!

I know I have no cause to/
worry at all about you./
But when a friend’s silence/
seems so out of balance,/
it’s just what caring folk do.

Going 2 bring U a rose,/
I barely could change clothes!/
Instead I gifted/
yer head,/
not yer nose:
To art curators,/
is everything a work of/
art, or is nothing?

To art curators,/
is everything a work of/
art, or is nothing?

She has no knowledge/
that she is the belle-whether/
of relationships.