My Problems Poem by Francis Duggan

My problems as a writer is I've written too much stuff
And much of it is slipshod and looking rather rough
Just an ageing Poetaster is all I can wish to be
And penning stuff a hungry game for a scribbler like me
I must be quite addictive for why would I go on
Penning more and more stuff when my better days are long gone
The Schoolboy of the fifties has known a far better day
The passing of the Seasons have left me bald and gray
I've written about Nature where beauty it is rife
And I've written about people and I've written about life
The literary critics out there I have failed to impress
Yet everytime I'm penning I feel such happiness
I will not give up on writing of that why should I lie
And I'll be penning doggerel until the day I die.