I’ve been read, once or twice.

A few more times would be quite nice.

How dare my work go ignored.

Or even hinted that you were bored.

My poems reek of reason and rhyme

To not read them is just a crime.

Tap, tap, tap, I type my words of wit.

All for naught, because no one reads it.

Stories abound inside my head,

But they just lay there stone cold dead.

I give them life and they fade so fast.

Never first, always last.

I’m sorry to say, I can no longer abide,

Making excuses and letting you slide.

There’s only one thing that will make you switch.

I’ve hired a full-blown hoo-doo witch.

I’m thinking about some sorta curse,

A pox, a stubbed toe or even worse.

Maybe crossed eyes or growing a tail?

Or turned into a toad, a crow, or a snail.

Unreasonable you say? Ha! I say

You better start reading me today!

So I suggest in all haste and speed

Isn’t it much easier to just…

READ…