As Compared to Ewe…

I write like a clumsy schoolboy, I do,

Education into the art of the write, I have no clue,

I write on toilet paper sometimes in the loo,

Sometimes I do visit the cuckoo’s nest in the local zoo…

Perhaps an artist I should have become, in the past I could of drew,

To compare myself to the artists here I am much more subdued,

Those artists being those I do love, some maybe you,

They are the best, they are above the rest, herein I do accede too…

In comparison I do write with childish rhyme,

Well for the most part some of the time,

It is nothing more than a nonviolent crime,

The way I do write being nothing more or less than grimy slime…

Yes I know you will disagree with me on this,

But sometimes even on my own writes I have to take a piss,

It inspires me in the future least ways I won’t be remiss,

I should have done so far beforehand, then I could have found parti pris…

So I keep trying to become as good as “ewe” all,

Writing like a sheep curled up into a ball,

No longer will I keep you here reading in my stall,

If it were not for this computer,

You would not understand my childish little scrawl…

What was this poem about?

Was it something of an open/closed-minded look at a lout?

Or did you get something from it, I although do mostly doubt…

        © ed ~ 11/14/04