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Sitting at my home on a stuffy, windy day;

Wanted to do something glorious and found the way

Decided to write a story, my faith hold true;

about the beautiful bird or the magical shoe

Spent two hours thinking up of story's theme and name;

Now I was in despair and ashamed

Then I thought what to do;

 Wade in thee girl and do something new

An epiphany I got, of the poems I wrote, long ago;

Unwillingly those poems felt sad, were they really that bad?

Now it's time to flow and show; 

I am not a slack though

Without improving myself I gave up;

Now It being the time to brace up

Brace up my will;

Poems are not easy to write so drossy to stay still

I thought something, I wrote something, I hope there is nothing that I really do miss;

 just wrote that was going on my mind and ended up writing this

Where at the beginning I was lacking any clue;

Now this is what you call something tried and true