For near forty years I've been addicted to rhyme
And I've been penning stuff since i was in my prime
The verses i write i could not hope to sell
Perhaps i am bound for the Poetasters hell.
Out of millions of writers few seen as good enough
But that does not bother me i just keep penning stuff
I pen for enjoyment not in hope of pay
Addicted to rhyme i pen stuff every day.
I penned my first verses from here far away
Long before my hair started to thin and gray
One might say my better years by now long gone
But i feel obliged to keep on keeping on.
When i was a young man i daydreamed of renown
As i worked in the fields just west of my Hometown
But daydreams suppose do seldom come true
And from life we only receive what we are due.
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