::::::::
| well, I am so right when I write, |
| and I write when I am wronged. |
| this is just my purpose to being. |
| the day light is heavenly bright, |
| even though there's darkness at night. |
| yet my writing points to the light for seeing. |
| giving in to all of my wit, |
| there is where I show every bit |
| of my, loving, poetry. |
| breaking all of them rules |
| I learned back at school. |
| I write, all right, you can see. |
| for I am showing truth, |
| as it so behooves |
| the unenlightened to agree. |
| there in the dark of the mind, |
| sittin' beastly on it's behind, |
| that is, so unlike that is, me. |
