I can write my damned ass off! Who knows that by now?
Why not cut me some feedback? I’m in awful need.
Infantile is my ego. It craves attention
Even though simply doing this is lots of fun.
I’m more proud than prolific. What case do I plead
For the love made available if I allow?

It just ain’t no big thing I’m obliged to conclude
Yet most things of great size are not easy to move –
Like the free wills of others. Although some succeed
Because they have that something that I lack indeed.
I could write trash like others, but what would that prove?
It may be simply that my perception is skewed.

Give a rat’s ass about something other than news.
Even though it’s historical, watch it from home.
But don’t sit there all day doing nothing but that.
Take in things of some substance. The world isn’t flat,
Nor do I care to see where the crazy ones roam.
I find safety and comfort while in my own shoes.

I can’t see myself stopping this. I’ll continue
‘Til my last day of living. My ego survives
Its acquaintance with smallness on anyone’s stage.
I’ve no role to embellish nor crowd to engage
Sacrilege of relationship. Clarity drives
My wholehearted ambition and all that I do.