Facetious

I own your soul, I control your mind,
Given to me in half a rhyme.
Hear my poems, and you succumb
To the rhyming riff of cheek in tongue.

Melodious strains strain ears so pure,
As he sings a melody off key, for sure,
And says he loves and loves what he says,
He plays, he pushes, he knows what's best.

Best for who? Well him of course,
Silly girl, pretend what's worse.
Let him think he's in control,
Then wipe the snot off his nose.

Snot nosed brat, yes that's him,
Lovely ditty to sing to them,
Play the music on your lute,
Oh Endymion, she knows, forsooth.

Hide, sweet shepherd boy,
Playing to be a Goddess' toy,
A sex object from afar,
Who kisses fire, sweetness part.

Court ye, your maiden moon,
Pretend to cuddle, have her swoon,
And fall from the sky in dead of noon,
This Goddess pure who loves only you.

Sweet melody, a waltz perchance,
Whilst stars and fortune gather to dance,
And the Fates get drunk by the big punch bowl,
And play with the lives of the garden gnomes.

Alas, Alack, poor youthful maid,
Who, in a moment, is unsafe,
And in the next is all too proud,
This maid, this crone, this witch aloud.

I own your soul, I control your mind,
Given to me in half a rhyme.
Hear my poems, and you succumb
To the rhyming riff of cheek in tongue.

So, here it is, plain and simple,
You wanted beauty, and you got a pimple.