I've written a long and great deal of lines
In for now but a fourth of the year
I suppose I will write more justice confined
For the other four fourths that appear

Now I'd just like to let you all know
About the onehundred poems I typed
So that you may say, "Ah, is it so!"
And feast upon verses both day and night

Because truly when the light is right
The wordsconcieve without remorse
All the things that no victory can convict
And which be shattered by no force

In celebration of a hundred, this verse
I proclaim in my listning, before second, a first
And a great big feast I expect at the least
For this greatness my months have diverged

Your liddable illdness by scribble

Poetry by Me