I sell myself short 

with these small rhyming pomes

I could make a da-vinci

and hang it in homes

 

I choose humour

simple simplicity

hiding intelligence

probably a little shitty. [ditty .. pitty..]

 

Conveying small problems 

as huge world war 8

this is my head

and it tends to dictate.

 

It makes storms in teacups

and wildboars in shops

my brain hiccups

and it calls the thought-cops.

 

The storm ends though

but not so my passion

It rekindles my life

in a funny sort of fashion. 

 

A stop start motor 

of a rickety car

my brain is my achilles heel

but its also my star.