'An Unlikely Laureate' Poem by G. Bryan Bernhardt

My poetry's quite personal, it comes straight from my heart,
But who will listen to it? , I don't know where to start.
Oh, wait, I found an audience, right here in front of me,
And you seem like a captive one, did you get in for free?
Reguardless, I'll astound you, my prose are quite profound,
Still yet I get this feeling, that I am losing ground.
Now wait a sec, my words are deep, so that just can't be true,
That painful look upon your face, must be a touch of flu.
But you my friends are lucky here, my words will make you wiser,
I plan to have them published soon, in the local merchandiser.
Now I know I must have talent, I phrase words oh so well,
I've asked of Reader's Digest, which work of mine to sell.
Response from them was very prompt, they said my quest took guts,
I assume they're just not buying now, because of budget cuts.
But I can see your fasination, with that stare of disbelief,
Or is that look rentention, just begging for relief?
Now you seem such lovely people, the kind who appreciate,
Of life and song and gentle winds, (see, told you I was great!)
Ok, come on hang in there, let me prove myself to you,
In verse of painted springtime, grasses green, and skies of blue.
Well thank you all for listening, it's my time to depart,
I know this poem's silly, but it came straight from my heart.