I penned my first rhymes in nineteen seventy three
Since then time has made an old fellow of me
I used to daydream then i would be a poet
A person well worthy of literary note
But daydreams are just that and seldom come true
And foirtune and fame as a writer in life not my due
I have lived many years since my physical prime
As one of the millions addicted to penning of rhyme
The reason i add to my numbers of rhymes every day
Is that it is something i love doing in truth i can say
With rhyming words i am one who loves to play
An addiction that with me is sure for to stay
For as long as i live until the day i do die
If i did tell you differently it would be a lie.
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