A Fine Line

The key is A That key is mine But there’s a fine line Between what’s mine and what’s fine Contemporary Why are things so temporary? Why is what’s old So exlemporary? A redefinition Of my own dictionary But now I’m being told All of my work is fictionary As if my own mind Doesn’t grasp the concept That while being honest Literaturely I’m not the fondest These words are of my own creation My thoughts just a justification The must I see Is a lusting realization That poetry In itself Is self Paired with a little something else And what you pair is key Like the key I mentioned earlier Because it is A For this message why I’m the courier Without feeling There’s nothing to make up Why on this bench I continue to stay up There’s a fine line Between what’s mine and what’s fine There’s music to these words If you just give it time