Verse within a birthday card, Compromise is sometimes hard. Embarrased censor hides away, Forgive the poet out to play. Thought can twist a dancing word, Wring meaning from the absurd. Look again before you vet. Childhood trauma's wreck your life.
Form is real when it's being used.
Good is sometimes mixed with bad. The poet's pen danced in the gutter, Intent on exposure for some nutter. I arrived in a frock, Run literary amok. I make less and less sense, Won't fit behind a fence. There are so many sides to me, My kingdom for a banion tree.