Compile and File Poems
Would rather really set up a file
After all of my poems do compile;
In a cabinet all of them will store;
Go ahead and write some more.
God all my energy to me He gave;
From my many sins He would save;
While at me He had started to look,
Did end up writing one more book.
What happened much to my surprise
Was awarded with a Pulitzer prize,
All of my friends became annoyed;
Each poem I wrote they destroyed.
Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2022
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