What in the world can I say that is of any value anymore?
I've tried every style of poem, dangling participles galore
I have purchased every moral tale from the allegory store
And done my best to establish an easy, comfortable rapport...
Who should be more embarrassed, me or those who read my stuff?
I have most certainly repeated myself more than often enough
I plough through tons and tons of silly nonsensical fluff
Even giving my audience facts galore, strictly off the cuff...
I have a predilection for careful enunciation and proper diction
Pedantic to a fault, plus I am a walking talking contradiction
I can say that all I have done has been written with conviction
Whether it be nonsense, off the wall, or simple fact or fiction...
But now, what can I say that is of any point in saying anymore?
Thousands of words I left behind and thousands I pushed before
I have written about everything I know on both ship and shore
Maybe I should leave open my windows, but lock the poetry door....
