since my hip got sprained
i was never trained
can’t stop rhyming,
as this exhibits.
the rhymes were the reason
i was without reason
i could babble for hours and days
i tried not to notice
(most people don’t know this)
how hungry i was for some praise.
when i was in high school i carried a box
with my poems all numbered and sorted
i had a small crew i could show my work to
and always be promptly rewarded.
now that i’ve lived
a whole lot of life
i’m looking at what i’ll be leaving —
to my kids from me
may not be financially freeing.
they’ll inherit my verse,
hey things could be worse,
but my two are my raisons d’être.
as for the the poems and etcetera,
if i don’t have
a way to get the art out,
creative me may cease to be
and i will cry my heart out.
i’ve always had, up to this day,
to say things in a different way,
to work art in to every job
to be the one uncommon slob
to stand somewhat apart,
those are my raisons d’art.
© 2016 kStan(ly) Lanning
re-posted with the Daily prompt – marathon, until something new runs in