To Laugh at Myself

Why must these people write of such hate?

Of sadness and tragedy and always heartbreak

I have noticed something, I should have seen before

That yes even I have written these poems galore

What was I thinking when I wrote this?

Of wishing life were better or punching thoughts with my fist

I feel like laughing at my younger silly self

Heck, I feel sillier than one of Santa's elves

What did I know of love or life?

Why did I make big deals out of stupid little strifes?

What fools we all are to write of what we know not

The cause of these problems I have all but forgot!

Now I know better; and I am so happy and free

Because I put it all behind, and in Christ I believe

From now on I'll try not to write this stupid random

Of love, hate, betrayal, or another thing of fandom

Looking back on former works, I laugh at myself

And that's what we all will do when we are old and need help

I sigh contentedly, thinking of how foolish I will feel

When I look back on this work twenty years up the hill

And think once again

"How nieve I was then!"

And so closes another random thought

Of which later I shall know not

Oh well