Poetry in the blog space,
 No matter how I try to dress it,
 Will never save the human race,
 Nor make any difference, face it,

      I've written a year's worth,
      Showed my talent for its derth,
 So many entries fell short,
 Left in shambles on the screen,
 Dead on arrival report,
 Better off if they'd been unseen,
      But I can't stop myself,
      But to put more goods on the shelf,
           Let customers come in and laugh,
           Point out my mistake and my gaff,
                Is rejection my reward?
                Am I always to fall on my sword?

 Days and days to express, make do,
 With what little gift I can muster,
 Scribbles and keystrokes merge to show,
 Whether I've talent or bluster,

      Two o'clock in the morning,
      Thoughts hit without warning,
 Have to write them down,
 Have to give them room,
 Whether they can resound,
 Or loose their way in the gloom,
      Must express as a hack, 
      Must eek out through the lack,
           And hope for the best,
           When put to the test,
                Does it please you,
                What it is I do?
 But the fire still burns bright within,
 The muses still yearn to be free,
 And so once more I begin....