King of Crap
KING OF CRAP
Deep thoughts can come to my mind
And go fast; but shallow thoughts stay.
You probably wouldn’t be so unkind
As to agree, but you certainly may.
Sometimes I sit for days and the muse
Is asleep or else maybe drunk:
And my silence may be a cause to amuse,
Though I think, thank and thunk.
But when I drink and take something edible
And munch, and don’t even think,
It seems I can’t stop my pen’s scribble:
It may even flow without the need for ink.
Some there are who call me Poetry King
And some just say he’s “that writer chap”,
Not for the volume of my writing -
But for its quality - I’m the King of Crap.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
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