Poem-itis

This is driving me insane,
All the rhymes, the moods, the paper so plain!
A song will appear;
It's no suprise you'll find me writing near.
I write and write;
Rhyme and rhyme.
All day, all night.
An endless, un-winnable fight.
I can't stop this,
This crazy sickness called "Poem-itis"!

Dannie Malleo
WHS
Wickenburg, Ariz.