Since late seventy three i have been a rhymer and for much longer than that a rhyming buff
And i am one who has done a lot of rhyming i have penned pages and pages of stuff
I used to daydream that i would be a writer one seen to be worthy of the title of poet
Though i never became one worthy of literary of note
Since my physical prime many Seasons have come and gone
And four decades later i am rhyming on
The rhymes that do come to me on notepaper i pen down
But never for money or for literary renown
An addictive rhymer is all i can be
And the title of poet is not for people like me
I am just a fellow who does love to rhyme
And rhyming to me an enjoyable past-time
And i hope to be rhyming until the day i do die
If i did tell you different that would be a lie.
Topic(s) of this poem: writings
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.