sometimes
i wish i could
wax poetic
with streams of poetic verse.
line after line
page after page
on prophectic things i'd converse.
you'd think me such a sage.

about the heavens & the stars
about hate & wars
the sun's bright light
why there's night
and moonbeams
God's Great Plan
the plight of Man
Custard's last stand
i'd write books and reams.
on Love & Life
and my great strife
eloquent verse it seems.

wouldn't that be neat?

but, sorry my friend
for in the end
afraid that's just not me.

short & sweet
right to the meat
for me it can't be beat.

a single word
a timely ryhme
a poignant phrase
cut thru the haze
write about each phase
as abruptly as i can
that's all there is
to this poetry man.