I must confess,
I can't believe,
I've posted over two hundred,
Poems of oddity & weirdness,
Of my "id" I have thoughts that are brainless.

I seem to possess some finesse,
At writing poetry,
I must relunctantly acquiesce,
I am surprised nonetheless.

Discretion, it is said, is better part of valor,
So shall I stop writing for tonight, this trash,
Or just crash till I have something better,
To share this mishmash with...?

Yes that is what to do,
Go to bed to sleep,
Till I awake to jot down,
Other little diddies of interest,
But only to me,
Till I clean them up,
For all to see...

(ed)