Forgetting that I’ve written such a verse
As I’m about to do again may be a curse
Condemning me to repetitiousness—
Though possibly the route to my success:
Perfection comes with practice, it is said,
So if down the same pathways I am led,
Perhaps in time I’ll happen on a winner,
A veteran then, no longer a beginner.
But still, my search for new material
Is paramount, what’s apt and lyrical
And not like this—merely expository,
Or possibly a captivating story.
Well, time and space have sadly now run out—
Tomorrow’s will be better, I’ve no doubt.