I always wanted to write,
never wanted the fright,
or at times the fight,
but it was there like the dark of night.
So I had to shed my fear,
close my mind to the negative near.
Hard job,
hard job,
almost make a heart throb,
at times an eye sob.

It takes a lot to frightened me,
the big bad guy you see.
But deep down inside I'm a whimp,
darn next to the bottom shrimp.
However don't try to steal,
because I won't peel,
strong is my chosen deal,
it has a better appeal.

This is the poets last stand,
no matter who holds this hand.
I'm beholding,
because I might be the only one holding,
surely I've taken a scolding.
I basically like being a rhyming poet,
like you didn't know it.
I rhyme for game,
not for the fame,
but I'll take them both the same.

It's been about ten years stumbling,
but my verse keeps coming,
will continue until I'm succumbing,
Or out on the road thumbing,
with no pen near,
at least it won't be fear.

OnepoetGem