I never claimed to be a poet; I never claimed to know it.
Course, I know I wrote it , But I always seem to blow it.
Plying a word little bit, moving a word around it.
Holding a vowel for it and rhyming with a consonant
Scratching it in pencil, accosting it like an assailant,
Braking the rules left and right of it, hoping no one noticed it.
Working as a rhyming surgeon, always trying another transplant,
Am I a self defined amateur poet, who never understood it.
I am tired of being, I am sad, I am lonely, I am tired of hoping. I am mad, I am cowardly, I am tired of trying. I am no maid, I am not the one and only, I am tired of no one listening. I am just tired, I am not sleepy, I am fed up with the lying. Am I dying.
Feline, four legged freeloader,
You a hairy intruder,
You food digester,
You court jester,
You orange trouble maker,
You Flee attracter,
Feline, four legged manipulator,
Oh, you know who you are.
Inflation, Elation, I always wanted this vacation, Bright eyes in the moon‘s illumination, Constitution, Restriction, Travel is always for this man of distinction, Elevation, Conception, Landing never felt so much interruption, From life and body of this man of distinction.