I have been adrift without inspiration and so posted an old piece which received such a heavy critique to at least have the effect of dislodging my stuck muse. I must say, twas my first poor grade ever in creative writing.
My verse is free My cadence my own But maybe I should stick to I Do Not Know For trying to find A pigeon hole Constipates my poetic flow While I love to cook I love to taste I'm hard pressed to follow a recipe I'm here to admit Despite my best efforts It simply isn't me So in I Do Not Know I will push my poems Such should suite me fine There I can stick my rhyme Wherever I like Including where the sun don't shine.
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