Thirty- five plus years of holding it in,
I'm glad poeming isn't a sin.
Had a dream that I talk too much,
reflected it back to my poetic crutch.
I do poem quite a bit,
so I ignore my dream transmit.

Put me on the witness stand,
I'll plead guity to this poetic demand.
Go back where you came from dreams,
I'm wide awake now it seems.
Dream in my head talking,
I go right on walking.

Kill me and cut off my head,
I'll poem out my neck instead.
I gave up alcohol drinking,
but never will I stop inking.
I'm hooked for the rest
of my existence,
wide awake my pen
gets no resistance.

G