Be it Poetizer or Mirakee I’ll write till I am blue
Because I yearn endearingly to make some money too!
Don’t get me wrong, I love my words
I’d sit and write all day.
But living wages don’t grow on trees and words alone don’t pay.
I tried it at the grocery store, I spited out a rhyme.
The cashier stared back angrily, accused me of a crime!
So, on this day year of our lord the 20 and 19.
I’d throw myself upon a sword if you’d pay me for my spleen!