Suppose I Will Be Penning Stuff

What matter for my success or lack of it since I must die anyway And my biological clock is ticking on I've known a better day And what use now in any regret since regret is a waste of time In the many hours I've seemingly wasted in the penning of reams of rhyme Years ago as a younger person when I lived near Millstreet Town I often had these foolish daydreams of literary renown But daydreams from reality in distance far away And time brings us some wisdom as some are known to say And yet I go on penning rhyme though bugger all my gain I have to be an addictive rhymer for how else can I explain That I should persevere at such a thing when some close friends say to me 'Tis time that you tried your hand at something new and leave the poets to write poetry But if I told them that I'd give rhyming away then that would be a lie Suppose I will be penning stuff until the day I die.