I draw like a kindergartener
hopped up on birthday cake.
I don’t write music
and can carry a tune to its grave.
I can’t paint or sculpt,
nor create anything beautiful.
Except with my words
My lovely, loved words.
“write me a poem,
use your pretty, pretty words.
Seduce me.”
And like Cyrano I did.
I crafted masterpieces
for you
Inspired by you
desired by you.
I painted pictures
and sung songs
with words.
My pretty, pretty words
that worked to catch
your attention
and your heart.
Until they didn’t.