The poems ended
Long before I stopped writing them
Perhaps in all the years
There were a few that are real
But I suspect them overwhelmed
By the many that are not
And all is lost an overabundance of the mediocre and inane-
I should end now
But I probably won't
I need the writing of the poems too much
Just as their no-readers need them not at all.
Topic(s) of this poem: poems, poetry, readers, writing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.