On Writing A Poem

I yearned to be a Poet someday; Enthrall the literary world someway; I knew to write a good Poem, Was not quite easy- from my mom! Of all the many talents I’d got; My one thing-my Poetic thought; From the Heavens like a thunder-squall, Master-like, I began to enthrall. Even my wife, she makes some fun Of me- Poet? I like to pun, With words; and under the Sun, I will be great and try to stun. The urge to be a good Poet, Persists to goad me on and on; So, now and then, I tried to write, And whenev’r the lines are born! Many a talent, I possess, I will also become famous; If my one Talent, I pursue, Very soon, limelight will ensue. Whatev’r thy aim, begin, one must; Swim, one day, the unchartered sea; Success will come to a brave heart; That keeps writing with immense glee. This stress though strange, I’ve suffer’d; To struggle thus, undeciphered; ‘Tis a worthy cause and the fame, Everlasting shall end the game. Poetry, addiction to some, Like cannabis, heroin, rum; A Poet should best deliver, But God is the sole Giver! No matter all the blunders writ, Despite critics calling unfit; One stealthily makes progress, In any field to bring success. With time, the poem gets mended! Hours of hard labor seem ended; All is so well that ends so swell! The Poet happily will revel. Not all need win laurels, acclaim, Man must his creator proclaim; God’s love of Mankind, knows no bounds; And haunts us tenderly, all around!