The urge to write is so damned strong,
it's eating me alive
the words, all jumbled in my mind
sometimes come out all wrong.
My poetry is changing from
the sappy lovesick verse
at times it's something beautiful,
though oft' it's something worse.
I wish I knew which way to go
to make it come out right,
but like as not it still will keep
me up too late at night!
The late night hours tempt me with
subtle promise of something fine,
but that is rare and seldom comes
just babble, line to line.
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