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Click hereLine of Poets
It's difficult to rhyme
Hard to find the perfect line
My similes seem faded
Irony is jaded.
There's a line of poets
Stretched from my door to heaven's floor
Trying to get in
But no one's listening.
I guess we all sold our souls
For words that never came
Traded our paradise for hell
Our sunshine for rain.
There a line of poets
Stretched outside the liquor store
They don't care anymore
Nobody's listening
Nobody's listening.
Here's one got missed
Under the label of 'all poems about lost love,'
As frustrated poets line up
Outside the liquor store.
We get our inspiration
Wherever we can find it.