Queen

Gems flow from your finger tips, Each a priceless jewel, No struggle, No pain, Just perfection, You can do simplicity when it is called for, and be as complex as a difficult rhyme. Yet, I say you are not an artist. You create with no feeling, All is technical skill, With no passion to fire the imagination, You are an actor, Pretender, unreal. The very feeling you should feed on, You shun like it is rotten. Behind me. Give me someone who cannot rhyme, or cannot write a phrase, but has the passion of rebel, Give me that person over you, You ice queen, You make me sick, Be gone from my sight, NOW! I no longer wish to see you, You do not care for passion, then I do not care for you.