
Photo by Martin Péchy on Pexels.com
You may not yet know it,
But I am a poet.
I wait for my muse to inspire.
I try not to show it,
Hard work, I forgo it,
My verses, not cheap, but not dire
So, call me a fool,
Say I’m not cool,
But of rhyming I never will tire.
It’s my trade’s greatest tool,
And while others may drool,
I’ll do it until I retire.