A long time ago I wrote a rhyme
Without any outward aim
And since that time so many more
Rhyme became my writing game
I’d love to tell you why I do
Explain the purpose of my bidding
As if my motive was a master plan
And if I did I would be kidding
Could they be a moment framed
Or trite imaginings with frills
Introductions to the stuff I see
Or when enthrallment overspills
Well if that’s true then why a rhyme
A kind of runaway quatrain
My stanza lone when couplet prone
The curse of verse graffiti’s stain
But looking back I know these rhymes
Have purged the inner me I find
In a land where I can’t understand
The shy inside my inner mind
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