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The Problem with Poems

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The problem with poems is that
Each
Word
Must be picked cautiously, and it must fit
Perfectly--
No room for error in such a
Tight
Package.
But for some reason,
I still try to write these s***** poems for you,
Ones where I'm far too verbose,
Where I don't know how to string words together,
Fitting syllables like puzzles.
Where I don't have one thousand ways to describe
How two people's love can multiply.
I don't understand meter or rhyme
Or finding a flow.
In fact,
I'd probably try to rhyme flow
With backflow?

The problem with poems is that
I can sit here and try to write one for you,
But it will be paltry in comparison to how
I actually feel for you. Because love doesn't always understand
Rhyme or flow. Sometimes, love is just prose, where I can try to spend the rest of my days filling its pages with you. Screw the limits. Forget the perfect choice of words. My love for you cannot be confined within the limits of verse.

The problem with poems is that
I'm no good at them.
And I want to be able to show you my love
Through my talent for words.
But I guess I'm not as good at writing words
As I am at watching our love,
Fluttering like birds.





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