Wow, what even is this? Terrible, terrible. Why do you even bother, it’s no good Thanks, now get out. I admit I’m not the next Frost I may not even be the next anyone. So, without further ado, I’m sorry. I apologize. I’m sorry Blake, Burns, Wordsworth. I’m sorry Poe, Frost, Ginsburg. I’m sorry Plath, Petersen, Bremer. I’m sorry Church, Winter, Dychkowski. I don’t measure up, I don’t even rhyme Selfishness is my reason for this Feelings on paper and thoughts in obscurity All written without form, no scheme Is it real if it doesn’t make sense? I’m not stopping, no, I’ll persevere But I offer up these apologies to those who are poets Somehow I got labeled with you Somehow I ended up here. Poetry. My one stay. An escape I can always turn to. I’m sorry. My apologies. Forgive my excuse.