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A poem about writing
I’ve been accused of being wordy
Those who know me say I’m flirty
Never will they call me dirty
It seems again I’m getting wordy
As I reach back to recall this day
Or any other in my way
Without the use of the words at hand
How else would I show where I stand
If I were now to be the fool
And leave my words my own true tool
To set aside what I do well
Within each rhyme I cast a spell
These are demanding times so many say
And as a poet I must obey
With words that give a lift a tone
In hopes I show the world has grown
Alas it’s true I failed again
My words changed nothing with my pen
We hurt the ones that live so close
Make fun and jest and too often boast
I’ll try again next morning’s sun
In hope my words create some fun
With thoughts I write from dreams past night
If I get wordy please call or write.
— WOLRAD
(A poem from the Wolrad collection #292)
