Writing Poetry
This is the part
At the start
Where you set rhythm to the rhyme
Just enough
Of the stuff
As cadence moves in time
Taking a subject
In hopes that they love it
And find it rather deep
As you keep them guessing
Show you're not messing
With originality
You're now in the middle
Where you start to fiddle
With all the words at play
Hide a few meanings
As you'll soon be leaving
Before it is too late
Then comes the ending
The tail end of the beginning
Drawing it to a close
Wonder where it came from
You hate to play dumb
But only the good lord knows
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