A Real Poem

We dance we prance we're stricken with cancer we wish we were a silver knight lancer. We eat pies we wear ties; the girls are shy there is a big blue sky. We dig up the soil to get to the oil, but they don't see me having tea, watching the sea. Watch love fly like it were a dove flap it's wings to solitude no need for any attitude. Dance with the Arab girl give her a step and than a twirl, as our lips fuse together we some what don't care about the weather.