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.
