I admit that I am like a kid
When I see what I just did
Sitting here alone at home
And writing a really fine poem.

I giggle and dance a bit
Like a rockstar with a hit.
I have to dance, I can’t sit.
I celebrate for a little bit.

I don’t need the world’s applause.
That's like waiting for Santa Claus.
But the approval gives me pause.
Writing is a good enough cause.

It feels so good, it’s physical.
In fact, I’ll claim it is lyrical,
Mystical, and very much musical.
Something like a literary miracle.

I have written down my soul
And that was my entire goal
To communicate is my role
And it came out strong and whole.

So, I write it up and send it out
And maybe mine is the only shout,
That is good enough to brag about.
And sometimes it develops clout.

Some of them gather many fans
Writing doesn't disrupt my plans
But my words have passed through hands
And I am happy with what I began.