The picture? Why, of a turd, of course...

To bed I go at midnight,
To sleep I hope through the night,
Then comes five in the morn,
And for a time I feel reborn…

I seem to awaken with the birds,
First thing then I gotta drop a turd,
Then I write, for my mind is all a’buzz,
I do what comes natural; I do what I does…

Here I sit again, writing off a dream,
Here I sit again, thinking I’d like to scream,
Am I a writer, I know it not,
Instead let me deal with this,
And have for breakfast some ice cream…
© me – 7/1/14