Just don't say I didn't warn you

"Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Awww damn, you don't listen do you,
I told you what this poem could potentially do to you.
I told you if I wrote one about you,
There's a possibility I might be spending lots of time around you.

Wordplay is my name for a reason,
And my words can make you feel warm all year
like if summer was 4 seasons.

And I gotta write this poem to perfection,
Make sure every line flows and is corrected, and connected correctly.

And when I read it on stage I gotta bring the energy,
Like a 18 wheeler givin a jump start to a power wheels.

Its gotta be energetic,
Also everything has to be copestetic,
This poem will open up your heart as long as you let it,

But don't try to dead it or behead it,
You know you've loved my wordplay since the first day that you met it.

So don't front girl just let it,
Happen like it should happen,
And the audience's applause means nuthin unless ur in the front row clappin.

Because your hand clap matches the pulse of my heart,
How long have I been feeling you?
Of course since the start,

Of my open mic career two months before march,
Thats when I first seen that smile of yours perfectly arched.

And I know you might be used to compliments,
But I'm equiped with poetic confidence,
Your parents named you after one of the 7 continents,
Because your more important than any country, state or providence.

I'm tryin to tell you what my words can do to you,
My romantic metaphors can lyrically put the move on you,
Now I'm not tryna intrude on you,
Niether am I tryna sound rude to you

But when I write this poem that's meant for you,
My pen resembles your tears and my paper is me cause I'm there for you.

So that would make us sweet poetry,
And just know its me,
That will write you poems untill our skin wrinkles slowly,
And our hair looks like we walked outside when its snowing.

And I'll write you sweet rhymes,
Untill the end of time,
For you I'll keep my pen moving its only logical,
Untill I use up every word sequence possible.

I'll write you poetry,
Untill arthiritis takes over me,
Untill carpal tunnel gets a hold of me,
And untill you can no longer operate your ovaries.

I hope this poem does the opposite of scorn you.

And when I write it,
Just don't say I didn't warn you.

END.