I don't know what to write,
Or what people want to hear,
So I'll think through the night,
Of the things I hold dear.
Maybe I could get an idea,
Of the things that capture people's eyes,
Maybe what I write would free you,
From all the things this life calls lies.
Maybe I could teach you,
Maybe you already know,
How to write a poem or two,
And not your life away you throw.
Would you like to learn,
How to write rhymes?
So it is not your life you spurn,
By waisting all your time.
. . .
A