Sometimes my heart thinks in rhyming verse

At other times my mind is more terse

So what do we say to that, without elegant diction "No?" say it isn't so this can't be fiction

Shall I abbreviate or end

Abruptly

Smiles are so nice to see

Don't you forget nothing cuts so sharp as teeth

Heed the warnings of your heart

For it knows you better than you know yourself

The end

Or not? Is there ever an end or is this just all set on repeat?

I've been here before I often think

Thinking seems a rich mans game rather I shall try to survive

Matter cannot be created yet the universe expands, seems I'm being stretched thin