For 47 years, yes 47 years
I've been writing poetry
At times I feel I'm in control
At other times I feel it's controlling me

It has taken me up the mountain
It has hung me off the ledge
If you ask me, something ain't right
Perhaps it's all in this poets head

With poetry being an emotional thing
It pushes as it pulls
I take up it's bell and let it ring
That's about all I know how to do

I slap it left as it slaps me right
Right upside the head
Smack dab in the middle of tomorrow night
Where poetry has made up my bed

Because for 47 years, yes 47 years
I've been writing poetry
At times I feel I'm in control
While at other times I feel it's controlling me