Why poetry, he asked
 It's a bore, it is.
Nary a story nor a twist,
 only feelings told in language arcane.
 Metaphors which compare a sky to a petri-dish,
 and often make me want to throw up!!
All that stuff -
 of feelings cut to spurt blood,
 of love which finds itself in a rut,
 not for me, not for me.
That poem of yours from the other day,
 which made me cry, and lose my sleep,
 what's the use of all those words,
 if they cut so deep, so deep.
I hate the power they spin on me,
 the way they enrapture, then entrap me,
 I liked it when you wooed me, you know,
 but, god, I love you more as your words cut me through.