The Poetry and the Madness She says she loves my words But she never heeds the message Thinks I'm a Great Romantic And a lovely friend. It's the Poetry and the Madness The things I've always said She's my happy little sadness And I her listening friend My words are raw Like her wounded heart My story is written But she won't play the part Of the once-sad girl I give wings to fly Who mends my soul And shares her skies It's the Poetry and the Madness The things I've never said She's my happy little sadness And I her easy friend I lay bare my Dreams This dark dark night But only the Moon takes note Of its Fallen Knight My words make her happy And some make her sad She doesn't know that I feel them And I go slightly mad This role that I play is A terrible thing She has me miscast I was born to sing It's the Poetry and the Madness The things I've tried to say She's my happy little sadness And I the one she can throw away She asks me, where do I get All of these beautiful words? What makes me so sad, And who are these girls? I wonder if she's blind Or simply doesn't want to see Because certainly she deserves So much better than me She likes them more rich Or taller in size The pretty poster boys Who are all dead inside Who don't ask questions And never make her think They just break her little heart And push her to the brink But maybe that's best Because maybe she'll see me there I'll give her a wink as she jumps Sweet Dreams, my lady fair It's the Poetry and the Madness The things I say to her She's my empty little sadness And I'm too good for her.  - Jason 2:48am · November 16, 2003   <-- Back to the poetry menu.