Wise Up.

 This is imaginary drama,

Improv, if you will.

I should give you a chance, but I'm not gonna.

That'd just be overkill.

I laid my head down on my desk,

'Cause I knew I'd already failed.

I felt the fist hit my chest;

I knew the thunder would bail.

I felt the lightning in my heart,

Striking you to pieces.

And according to this imaginary chart,

Thought of you seizes.

I know you'll say you were ensnared,

And the imaginary evidence will ascertain.

This impasse will not be bared,

But kicked, and the bain

 

Will haunt me under a poplar tree.

I hope the imaginaries save me.