Wherein The Poet Gets The Girl (The Only Realistic Scenario)

I fell in love just ten hours ago
To, literally, the girl of my dreams.
We met while in prison and she kissed me so loud
That the guards thought the sound was a scream.

So they took her away and apparently killed her.
They fed her to Jabba the Hutt.
You can see why the dreamland convict I was
Felt like I’d been shanked in the gut.

And later I learned I’d inherited money
To pay off my million dollar “bounty.”
So I paid it and left, absolved for my theft
And fled to a different county.

There I met my love, alive and well
And we lived happily as we could have been.
Sometimes a poet need not be creative.
He need only remember his dreams.