Narcissit? Who me?

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Uh- Oh... Poetry

I click and clack and type my rhyme
I can't be golden all the time.
But always does the word out cry
there is in poetry a "try"

So so I do my very best
not quite as good as all the rest...
but when I die, I'll be of worth,
to all the worms beneath the earth.

From out of my limber mind does sprout
the lyric verse I long to shout.
But soon cold matter it will be,
and worms will munch it happily.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Such a sad poem...I hope you don't always feel this way.

Keep posting, I love your blog.