On Life And All That Goes With It
On life and all that goes with it I've written a bit
And though my stuff may be lacking in humor and wit
And feeling and passion and rhythm as well
For as long as I live I will pen doggerel.
I've never referred to myself as a poet
Or I'll never be one worthy of literary note
Time catching up on me my better days gone
But why should that matter I will keep penning on.
What hair I have left on my head it is gray
And where I was born and raised from here is far away
Where in my young years I often daydreamed of literary renown
In old Claragahatlea a mile from Millstreet Town.
Of life and all that goes with it I've written a share
And my rhymes are not good of which I am aware
But I will keep on penning of that I won't lie
For as long as I can if not until I die.
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