this is a little longer, but definately worth the read. It's not your traditional rhymie poetry, but I'm not always traditional. I wish I could perform it for you guys 
Words Limited
I heard on the news today the government retracting our freedom of speech. Speech. It reminded me of the moment when we first met. Frightened. I was immediately enraptured by your looks, and stood enamored. Intimidated. When you spoke to me I was speechless. It was like my vocabulary had been raptured by the moon. Your words were as pure as a little baby's smile. Like the way a mother looks her child. Your intellect gave my brain an intellectual massage. I knew right then that I could love you, but what if you could never love me? Flustered. I was tempted to ease my heart and walk away, and I looked away, but your eyes. You're eyes said "look at me more. Look at me more." And so they've stayed, and I've stayed lured ever since.
So the government seems to think that we've lost our quality of words. I call your house only to remember you're still at work. Anxious. My words are like flowers, and they'll only bloom once you've smelt them. My thoughts a pasture and only beautiful once you've strolled through them. Throughout the day I see my job and my friendships and they're only distracting illusions from you. Ecstatic. You stop by after you get off work, so I cook for you, serve for you, hold you. You hold me. We hold each other. You kiss me and it feels like my insides have been baptized in holy water. I save this moment for my dreams. Dreaming.
Confused. The next few days our privacy is exploited by the installation of cameras everywhere. The laws were passed and now we are only limited to 900 words per day. Inhibited. I call you up and you relax my fears with your soft voice. Eclipsed in my moments of darkness you become my sunset. The next day I wake up to unrest because a camera is watching me. I stop by the gas station before driving to work. I grab my usual cup of coffee. The gentleman tells me "Thank you." "Tha..." I stop. I smile, and leave. Relieved. Then I head to work. I do everything I can there; use sign language, short sentences, and again smile though I constantly feel like crying. On my way home I was pulled over. The officer claimed I had been speeding. My mind would not allow my mouth to speak and defend itself. If the eyes are the windows to the soul then the mouth is the door, and you posses my only set of house keys. Sane. I wait for you to get home, and I call. "Hey, I've saved 200 words for you." Then there is a silence over the phone. And I realized you've used up all of yours. "Listen, it's OK." Hesitant. I contemplate what I need to tell you, but you're more than just words. You are indescribable. You are beyond expression. I run out of words for you because I can't think that high. "I called you to tell you... I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love..." I'm out of words
Words Limited
I heard on the news today the government retracting our freedom of speech. Speech. It reminded me of the moment when we first met. Frightened. I was immediately enraptured by your looks, and stood enamored. Intimidated. When you spoke to me I was speechless. It was like my vocabulary had been raptured by the moon. Your words were as pure as a little baby's smile. Like the way a mother looks her child. Your intellect gave my brain an intellectual massage. I knew right then that I could love you, but what if you could never love me? Flustered. I was tempted to ease my heart and walk away, and I looked away, but your eyes. You're eyes said "look at me more. Look at me more." And so they've stayed, and I've stayed lured ever since.
So the government seems to think that we've lost our quality of words. I call your house only to remember you're still at work. Anxious. My words are like flowers, and they'll only bloom once you've smelt them. My thoughts a pasture and only beautiful once you've strolled through them. Throughout the day I see my job and my friendships and they're only distracting illusions from you. Ecstatic. You stop by after you get off work, so I cook for you, serve for you, hold you. You hold me. We hold each other. You kiss me and it feels like my insides have been baptized in holy water. I save this moment for my dreams. Dreaming.
Confused. The next few days our privacy is exploited by the installation of cameras everywhere. The laws were passed and now we are only limited to 900 words per day. Inhibited. I call you up and you relax my fears with your soft voice. Eclipsed in my moments of darkness you become my sunset. The next day I wake up to unrest because a camera is watching me. I stop by the gas station before driving to work. I grab my usual cup of coffee. The gentleman tells me "Thank you." "Tha..." I stop. I smile, and leave. Relieved. Then I head to work. I do everything I can there; use sign language, short sentences, and again smile though I constantly feel like crying. On my way home I was pulled over. The officer claimed I had been speeding. My mind would not allow my mouth to speak and defend itself. If the eyes are the windows to the soul then the mouth is the door, and you posses my only set of house keys. Sane. I wait for you to get home, and I call. "Hey, I've saved 200 words for you." Then there is a silence over the phone. And I realized you've used up all of yours. "Listen, it's OK." Hesitant. I contemplate what I need to tell you, but you're more than just words. You are indescribable. You are beyond expression. I run out of words for you because I can't think that high. "I called you to tell you... I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love..." I'm out of words
