I cannot feel the pain he’s given me
Parental blood be spilled, I hide my thoughts
And as I cannot speak the things I feel
Instead I find I’m saying what I ought.
My birthdate came; he wrote the rules of us:
A contract in accordance with a bond
No more, nor less, no reason for distrust;
He cannot split a kingdom once he’s gone.
Descending into madness left him blind
With horror mainly happening offstage
But had he spoken sanity, been kind,
No need for institution, law, or cage.
A father deaf to youngest daughter’s way
Will never hear the things she ought to say.
I would not have you fall in love with me
For what would you do then once you are loved?
You’d wrap yourself in everything you see—
For sentiment misleads when hearts are drugged.
You’d tell me how I spin your heart and head
And speak of all the things I have you feel;
You’d fall under my skin and into bed
Where lies the whole percentage of appeal.
But soon I’d be a tiresome little wretch
Who’d fade away, too easy to ignore;
Whose old and rhyming soul falls from the edge;
Too passionate a person to endure.
Unless you are in love with poetry
I pray you: do not fall in love with me.