This poem will certainly be a big hit
I'm throwing everything I've got and more into it
All the bells all the whistles all my poetic tricks
Rolling up my sleeves, into my open palm I will spit

This poem I'm pulling out all of the stops
Remove the plug at the bottom, raise the roof at the top
Fill in the middle with all that I've got
Blowing it all on the entire lot

This poem will either make me or break me
Lose me or save me, I'm thinking maybe
They'll love me or hate me, all want to date me
In Mardi Gras beads they'll want to drape me

This poem will embarrass all the other poems
Because this one poem will have it all going on
From the time it's conceived to the moment it's born
All other poems will concede to it's throne

This poem may even bring on the end
All the poets of today will turn in their pens
They'll be to afraid to write anything
As it will be the blue print to how a poem's written

Now that last thoughts got me thinking that it shouldn't be wrote
As it being the only poem is a scary thought
And how this single poem could yield so much power
I'd be crazy to set it free to dispose and devour

All this poem could do has really opened my eyes
So on second thought I'm not going to write
I'll lock up that thought shut the door tight
Another poem at this time I'll just have to find...