Don’t fall in love with a poet. By Jude Kyrie I look into your trusting beautiful eyes. You are so lovely so gentle and loving. I wonder if you know yet you will leave me. For you are playing with a tinder box. And I am a gallon of gasoline. The fire is inevitable. You will find out there A man who is gentle with a loving heart He will see only the beauty in you. You will have become tired of my poetry The emotional roller coaster I choose to live on. Weary of the poets afflictions for red wine and infidelity. You will fall into his bed and he will welcome you. Into his much stronger arms than mine can ever be. I shall return to writing love poems Poems that are real to my heart But to a woman that cannot ever exist. I shall frequent the slam bars of the city. And sleep with the women who think its Romantic to bed a poet. Yet never ask my last name. So strike your tinder box. Create a spark. Save yourself as I ignite into flames before you