It seems I'm always walking where you stand. I'd like to guide you, helping hand. But things aren't what they seem. When you're on the schoolbus in a dream. “Oh, my...where are we?†Asked the tiger to the flea... Do I fear death? I still smell your cozy breath It resignates in my tongue This sexy kiss that you have brung She tells me many times. Yes, I've had plenty wives. Bill was always for the show He was frequently on the go. “Oh, my...where are we?†Asked the tiger to the flea...
Pretty abstract, but I like it. Though, I think you are reaching with some of your rhymes. I feel that I constantly have to remind people that POEMS DO NOT HAVE TO RHYME! In fact often they are so much better if they don't rhyme. Try writing some without it.