Burnt
Out Offering
When Sunday comes, my
recent habit is
To think about this bit of
blogging biz.
Some times I have a piece
I have worked on
That I yet must decide if
duck or swan.
Or perhaps some impulsive
doggerel
Missing the goal of my
inaugural.
To be or not to be a wit
renown,
Nobler to be quiet than a
crappy clown.
For long, I wrote to amuse
only me
When there were no others
to read nor see;
That may be true mostly
even with this blog
Sailing into the
unresponsive fog.
What satisfaction do I
seek here
Dancing exposed to the
surfing sightseer?
A cry out for some undue
attention
To validate my own false
pretension?
Is it humble to hold your
thoughts within
And retire from the world
with no chagrin?
Or is it greedy to
withhold your part,
To hoard your ideas, and
not to impart?
What example must we set
for others,
To share our lives with
our human brothers?
Can I claim a role as a
building block
In my willingness to
peddle this schlock?
My imagined reader, if you
exist,
You choose to meet me at
this web-based tryst.
If, from here, you go unfulfilled away,
Please fault me little for
your wasted stay.
