I do work very hard, at being a bard, to pen a new poem each day
I think that I
might, continue to write, ‘cause I still have plenty to say
An interesting
theme means it’s easy to seam one line to the next that will follow
But a poorly
thought topic can make my writing myopic, and the timing and rhyming so hollow
So every night
I do chase, clever lines to replace, the rhyme that I wrote you last night
And after
dreaming about a poetic blackout, I do hope that my skill to recite
Fine words is not lost, for too high is the cost of spewing out second class scribble
For that is not my aim, this is not just a game, and I'll cease if it turns into dribble
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