Imagination

Rose's are red

Violet's are blue

Don't you wish I was a better poet?

I wish so too

Poets need inspiration

And emotion do drive thier lines

I can't write when I'm happy

I can only write when I'm crying

The memories do nothing

So I throw my notebooks in the trash

I don't need to remember the dead

Cause they're still living in the past

How can things be so great

That I lose my last love?

Talent where have you gone?

Genius no longer heats my blood!

Forcing thoughts on paper 

Leaves little room for imagination

Don't run away my pretty! 

For you are my only infatuation!

Can it be that I've wished you away?

With ever sappy love song you've penned?

Can it be that I have made you feel guilty?

Vividly describing all your sins?

No. You will be back!

I belive in you!

But for now the rose's must be red

and the violet's must be blue