Writing While Tired

I'd hate to sound bitter

But it's because of twitter
That I'm blogging again
Not that I expect
To do it daily
Especially with my phone
But as I sit here alone
In a well peopled pub
I just don't feel the want
As I usually do
To goodly draw
And to just sit myself down
As I drink my virgin drink
Ain't but what I'll do

So I write
Thanks to the good of verse
Though prose is faster much
Which is a thing
I care about
As a writer on a goodly journey
To write a million words

But poetry is
Just that much easier
I can almost write it yes
With mine own two eyes
Half but closed indeed
Or my mind only half engaged
Which might just be
A foolish admission
To publicly make

Though seeing as I'm still
In the act of writing
And have yet to publish this
I could turn right around
And write anew
But that's not what I'm gonna do
I'm going to write
Until I've reached the point
That right is how it feels
To call it a poem

And favouring as I do
The longer form
Of my best sweet good
It's understood
That I'll continue this
At least for another three
If not four

That's verses yes
But you surely knew that
And nodded impatiently
As i just write about me
Sitting in my seat
Like my life is complete
When it so ain't
And I struggle to paint
Some kind of picture
To keep you here

And for me to say
I got you by the nose
Would be a thing
I refuse to do right now
Because I just don't
And am struggling in fact
To hold myself up
As the hour of the day
Is playing with the lids
On mine own eyes
And making it hard
To bring the verse
To a proper end

But before I do that
I spoke of people here
And some of them
They're women too
And pretty ones at that
Though there's no story there
Just as there ain't no story no
Back at home
Despite a quick good count
Of four at least
Who are lovely indeed
And would fill a need
Within myself

Yet it's much easier said
Than done alas
To find a goodful ass
That wants from you

Not that you care to know you that
As it relates to me
So I'll spare you yes
The gory and the grim
Which only gets worse for me
When you realize my age
Which is the higher half
Of my forties

Thus old is right around the corner
And I'm far too close
To avoid its reach
So what else to do
But hie headlong in
And hope for the best

All this to say
I don't rightly know
And it's fair to ask
Did I say anything at all
At least of note
And be happy that I wrote

I nod yes
But I confess
You can say no
And I can't say you're wrong

I'd hate to sound bitter
But I'm here because of twitter
Which sounds worse than it is
As it's thanks to a user that I got the want to blog again

And that's a good
That even managed
To preclude a lick of drawing
Which is a rarity indeed
Because coming here
Like almost always means
A little of that
Save today
But writing eh
That 's where it' s at indeed

Or so it was
Because the writing's done
I won't take no bow
Because it wasn't worthy of one
But I will flick the sheet away
Because that's my thing

Charles Petrie

Date
07-02-2019

Time
Untimed, Early A.M.

Word Count
0613