I’m told a sense of humor I have,
Sometimes I wonder,
I seem to only make folks laugh,
With the written word…
Is that enough for you or me?
I can’t say anything about you,
But it seems to be enough for me,
What is wrong with me tonight?
I want to write,
I want to be humorous,
But all I can think is how do I become bright.
Not necessarily bright as in a light,
But bright as in smart,
Maybe I need a chart,
To find what I seek.
I seem to be too meek,
To do stand up on stage,
I think all the audience would see is that of my rage,
Flowing out like that of blood from a knife wound of an artery of the first page.
Is this a dark write?
I’ve no idea as I am not educated enough,
To distinguish dark from light,
Or humor from pain…
Maybe my more humorous poems,
Sometimes written by my alter ego, Rufuz,
Are there to scare,
Rather than promote,
A laughable response from the reader, so full of fuzz. (ed)