Twenty five non-straight days of 30 not in a row,
My attempts fell real short.
Hoping soon my art will grow,
Blogging eventually becomes quite sport.
Up early and late in order to complete the task,
Soon my writing may suffer no more.
Although to my surprise I might unmask,
Fall asleep at my keyboard with a snore.
Trapped like a bird in a cage,
I must write until the 30 days are up.
One does compete along the stone age,
Filling the water in the scarlet cup.
All the while I'm nearly complete,
Random thoughts I put to the screen.
Sudden moves rip the bed sheet,
All the while, threading the needle like Charlie Sheen......
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