Our jobs as poets is to deceive
We trick our readers into thinking the world is more magical than it is
Through our words we paint the monotone
Masking up the mundane
It is raining right now.
Common occurence
Nothing too grand
Still,
Many will stretch it into methapors and similies
Verse after verse
Flashback after flashback
Squeezed into submission
Until it becomes beautiful
But it's just water.
