Oh, I’m Sorry

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Oh, I’m sorry
Did you expect me to behave
Who do you think I am
Controlled along your radio waves
But I’m not that easily handled
I’m a pretty stubborn kind of guy
& subject to many whims of fancy
Living this life on the fly
I refuse outright to be your stooge
Or carryout all that you have planned
Understand, I’m devoid of rational thought
I’m immature; I’m the Pan

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There Are Many Fancy Writers

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There are many fancy writers
Those who are great, they’ve decided
Elegant illustrations & plunging necklines
But hubris is often one-sided
There are many arrogant writers
Quick with the wit they’ve decried
Moans of pain suited to their fame
Loving with one eye open it’s often implied

Immune To A Power Surge

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Immune to a power surge
I sit alone & quietly type
Not affected by technology
Refuse to be your modern gripe
I switched off my terrestrial radio
But I’ll still pound at these keys
I’m not cool or a trendy guy
I’m reserved, doing as I please
There’s never been an audience
Just a few genuine folks
Sharing myself sparingly
I’m better with these slow strokes
I’ll continue to conjure ideas
Preferring to use my typewriter
Nothing fancy; just a love of words
Old, but I can still pull an all nighter

I’m Not A Fancy Poet

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I’m not a fancy poet
I don’t have a soul patch nor a beret
Within the confines of each breath
Trying to create a literary bouquet
I merely write how I feel
Without thought to how I’m perceived
No time for such arbitrary notions
True to myself, I know I’ve achieved

Shining Societal Dolls;

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Shining societal dolls;
All alike in appearance
Remaning robotic in nature
Together, rigid in adherence
Decked out in the finest lace
Roaming fancy & ornate ballrooms
But you never saw beneath the mask
Preying upon all the potential bridegrooms

Immune To A Power Surge

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Immune to a power surge
I sit alone & quietly type
Not affected by technology
Refuse to be your modern gripe
I switched off my terrestrial radio
But I’ll still pound at these keys
I’m not cool or a trendy guy
I’m reserved, doing as I please
There’s never been an audience
Just a few genuine folks
Sharing myself sparingly
I’m better with these slow strokes
I’ll continue to conjure ideas
Preferring to use my typewriter
Nothing fancy; just a love of words
Old, but I can still pull an all nighter

Love Is More Than A Fancy Dance Around The Room

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Love is more than a fancy dance around the room
It exists in the quiet hours when the crowds have gone
You must face your insecurities in the stark light
An island – forever revealed with the coming dawn
It is just you & your chosen one, as the sun rises
Afloat in a rickety boat drifting along the swamp
Spanish moss hanging down from the trees
Together; all your doubts & fears you just stomp
No matter the darkness your eyes might see
There’s a authentic foundation under your vows
Hold each other close & know you’re never alone
Patiently love – you’ve made a promise to eternity now

Gripping lightly to the banister

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Gripping lightly to the banister
Our lives slipping away into the ether’s shadow
Gracefully stepping down each marble step
Never succumbing to their expectations of the afterglow
Holding your head up high in dignity
Wear the fancy clothes; wear your favorite scent
Knowing they’ll despise your happiness anyway
Remaining this awesome was never an accident

Fairly Fancy & Free

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Fairly fancy & free
Springtime upon my toes
Freshness abounds
Coming up with a rose

Whispering to the winds
Secrets of our years
No place to reside
Time to face our fears

Raised to our health
So we can no longer think
Simple happiness
Encased in nocturnal drink