I Make No Apologies

I MAKE NO APOLOGIES Forgive me not what comes out of my mouth As for what I write down between these lines When it comes to my poems it's all my shout Poetic etiquette for me, I didn't see any signs From truly uplifting words to sorrowful lament Too out of this world or funnies I have no end Forever, scribbling away, until this pen is bent Until my emotions are all well and duly penned My poems are better, as my spelling improves But the grammar I am afraid is, still very poor Still is nice when someone merits or approves For I am nothing more than a sad poet whore Love me or hate me my words will continue on So I make no apologies for what is here wrote In my attempt to be a supremo, of a poet don Until I can find another hobby in which to dote Indiana Shaw . . .