Word Dance

For today, I'll be a poet.
How to be one? Wouldn't know it
if it hit me on the head,
might be called a hack, instead.

Lovers that I've loved, unsmitten.
Notes to songs I won't have written
sounding off inside my ears,
like the chatter of my peers,
cure it, with a few more beers.

Is that it, entire story?
Greater truth, an allegory,
hiding behind this façade?

Don't believe it. You've been had.