So here I am, wide awake on my laptop, drinking tea at 4 o’ clock
Reading over a few of the better poems, I see that I may just need to slow it down
None of them have made it inside a book as yet, so I can take the time to edit fast ’til each and every one reads sublime
I always begin with the title, not the normal way but it sets me up nicely, makes for a far more enticing next line
Not a coffee, nor a beer, no point in inviting upon myself the fear
Might have me thinking outside the box but I do that anyway, make hay when it comes to my particular rhyme, Thinking about it some more, it is indeed all about the poet’s next line
How many ways to sell a poem, probably too many, an uncountable amount
The house is empty, parents out of town, time for me now to take all the ‘great poets’ down
No easy feat but you have to be in it to win it, feel the drive, dive right in, if one poem fails then the next one may be the one that sits all too well
I still reckon a poem isn’t a poem without the rhyme, is that silly or a fair enough assumption
An endeavour that takes real gumption
The tea is getting cold, I’m feeling a little more tired, maybe I’m sold
Have I come to the end of this poem, or is there another line or two in store
Or maybe I’m up this early in the morning for an altogether different reason, to browse the internet ’til locating myself a whore
All in the name of research of course

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