I'M Going In Poem by Charlie Odist

Four shots left in a glass
My eyes grew grey as it looked past
the face of an endless sky
Her beauty begs the question why
This is not a love poem you ill-advised rodent
I'm reduced to these lines
For if I were able to step out of this page
I will no doubt enter into you
So many rhymesters, so few useful minds
running circles around squares as if a watch is trapped in time
Your eyes burn with the thought of seeing me wave goodbye
like a metaphor immersed in pepper, neither liquid nor solidify
Love strangled while you're tangled in a world-wide web
books now have faces, profiles Satan's bed
Blue birds following what we believe are true persons
disciples of a Mohammed and a Moses worsens
because the truth is an elephant dying, lost in the sand
a pianist triumphant without an arm nor a hand
for watches will never tell time if the pin is left out
like the disfigured navy seal that only speaks with a shout
Yes his wounds know the story! Yes his face knows the shame!
in a game where all are guilty, and everyone's to blame.
I'm going in.