Guilty as accused

While the princess talks of agnostic love,
And the muse searches for her inspiration,
I contemplate what pizza toppings,
must be added, from inside and above.

And I am cogitating?

Tresses soaked in lacteous honey,
And life doubting it's own origin,
I can think of nothing but getting wet in the rain,
That too on a radiant day - ain't it funny?

And I am indulgent?

The sad child has lost her vengeance again,
A million wrongs cannot do one puny right,
I just wanted to iron out the wrinkles on my pants,
So that the creases do not leave a nonwashable stain.

And I am unjust?

Left, leaving, long gone, back to home,
Rather be her, than be him, poor man,
I only wrote of two elope with twain,
The answer: four; on all roads to Rome.

And I am illogical?

An aubade to endless sleep,
Fighting conversion with a literate rage,
I instead dreamed of my perfect date,
I danced, sang and counted sheep.

And I am ironic?

Pity the crazy soul, who needs reasons to be,
Ever tried a kiss with a pungent flavour?
I put a tape on every bruise I got,
The gum will join 'em up - you'll see.

And I am faithless?