Who do I write for?
Me.
I like to read my own words,
Written by me.
I like the way they look on paper,
How they sound in my eyes.
It's not ego.
I take pride, but that aside,
It's all about what I enjoy,
A toy for the boy to play with,
I like the way the words feel,
And hope others do, too.
I'm very tactile that way,
But that's a different poem.
Written under duress of the "Ought to be doing something else," monster.
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