SEEMS TO BE A HABIT WITH ME—BUT MOST OF THE TIME I CAN MAKE IT HUMOROUS.
THAT OLD FOOT-IN-MOUTH…!
Not wanting to insult my friends,
To their anger I must make amends…
Not making clear
They were without peer,
Without them I’d be at loose ends!
Pardon me if I crawl to my cave,
Trying some discretion to save…
I am just that:
A big spoiled brat–
The worst kind of writing knave.
The ones of whom I wrote will never know
And they too, would angrily blow…
The ungrateful gall
I’d complain at all,
Some observations better off not shown!
Speaking of Man’s common nature,
I seem to elevate my stature…
This sorry young wag
Opened the wrong bag,
Giving proper appreciation its hiatus.
(To my greatest loss!!)