The word work don't fit,
if it was I'd certainly quit.
I write for hobby and fun,
like a beautiful day in the sun.
Writing is like sitting on Tink's beach,
over the ocean I can reach.
Soar the skys of nothing,
then word it into something.

Out of much splendid,
I'm just being candid.
I'm just a fellow human being,
that plays around with writing.
Writing is like a toy,
I play with it for joy.

I don't care to make writing,
other than a toy exciting.
The day I start writing for pay,
this means my fun would turn to clay.
The clay would turn to stone,
all my fun would be gone.

G