In all ten
For my life of pen:
For the prize-fighter's fists
From the eyes summoning mists.
To our own eyes move straight,
When we can no longer wait
To rid them of slumber
And add to the outside world’s number.
Often gesturing our wish
To throw together some dish
And eating it off zoom,
The hell getting out of our room!
Sometimes, combating the itch
In public An Embarrassing :
And the pin-pricking worms
Picnicking in our rectums!
In creativity, The Wisely Engaged,
When inventive mind is not hedged
To every onlooker reminding
That on one it is binding
To display his being the rod
Moses had picked from God
Fingers can Mister A land in trouble
And Mister B supply a double.
I thought I'd try something new
And guess I bit off more than I could chew
It doesn't seem the time or place
So I'll just hang my head in disgrace
So many know much more than me
I'd just better let things be
I'll just throw together a few lines
And hope maybe they will rhyme
If one should make you smile
Maybe I did something worth while.
Cile Beer