I Love an Artist, Soul For Sale, It's Fun to Escape, and Criticism Schism

I Love an Artist

  Good grief!
  I can hardly speak
  His poems are worthy of no words
  As if they were never written
  All they needed were faces
6  Not comatose, faces that would display emotions
  Emotions that could never be known
  Because thousands of pages of blank paper
  Don't mean anything but the death of trees
  My love writes all night
  I summon him to bed and he denies me
12 Because he cannot forget his thoughts
  Or create without my silence
  I'm sorry that I love you

Soul For Sale

  On the market right now is a premium soul
  It is comprised of a generous heart and very discerning mind
  This is a limited of time price, half of the whole
  Just be strong in body because it will take its toll
  You will never consume a soul of this kind
6  Never mind, I think I'll keep mine

It's Fun to Escape

  This realm is boring
  I grow weary of its elusion
  No longer can I wade through life snoring
  Acknowledging boredom's intrusion
  But there is this place soaring
6  Find your way, by any means, to this illusion

Criticism Schism 

  What a prism!
  A haven for skepticism and opinions dissenting
  It is comforting to know that what is thought of thought
  Will be challenged and disproved
  Only to be adopted and practiced
6  Persuasion isn't absurd
  Here, division isn't denied, suppressed or hated
  Here, you are free from the tyrants who tell
  That thought must be to them aligned
  Your ideas won't face the wrath of Draco
  There is no ego or want to be right
12 Or a need to control or gain influence
  Here, your ideas won't be appraised
  What an amazing spectrum of sincere objectivity!
  How do I get the fuck out of here?