Clueless Poem by Janice M Pickett

Is it humor that makes us write?
Or is it just conceit?
Do we humbly put down words
Or are they thoughts to repeat
Do I know what drives me on
Do I care a dot
Should I say the things I feel
Maybe I should not
Am I just a poet
A girl with looks and talent
Or am I a simply an ugly kid.
How could you know
Gawd dammit
Have I had my work around
for years now in Book Stores?
Have you had the same success
Come on, show me yours.
So on one thing I promise
I really do agree
That you are totally clueless
about my friend Sandra and me