Poetry Competition

So.. I entered this poetry competition in Indianapolis. I went back through my poems and, using "an osmotic realization" for this basis, came up with a somewhat new poem to represent the word passion. I'm not really sure if I used the word how they were expecting it to be used, but it is what it is. The competition is based on competition, but I don't really write much in the spirit of that. Most of my words come from somewhere else. Anyway, minus long explanations, here's the new poem:

A Magpie Tries to Love

You mimicked me twice.

Tried to render me on your torn paper.

Those modest scraps sailed up; whispered all around me.

You loitered like a beggar.

Sat on this cold, cracked cement.

Shook this maker’s cup and coveted one last silver piece.

Make my cup spill over.

Solid.

You spoke to me.

Spent that murky message. Exhausted it.

This match was prepared for two players: a risky game.

The die thrown down.

You let it boldly predict each of our movements.

Let it roll. Let it spread that endemic bout of sensation.

Please guide my passion.

Lovely.

Your little agenda.

Wrapped around my skin like scratchy wool.

Gifting me that sweet, tingling titillation I so longed for.

You were the maker.

But only for a moment, I composed you.

I hovered in your interim; rejected your misguided forecast.

Give my failure endurance.

Osmosis.

Silly wasted operation.

You delivered the art of it, both devious and genuine.

Then pitched the die; exposed yourself to my tireless contempt.

It’s what you do.

Throw in the towel and give up that once easy smile.

You can’t laugh anymore. Not over your own incessant chatter.