All these poems are floating in my mind.
Some are mean and some are kind.
I must catch them and write them all down.
Some are lost and some are found.

I carry them with me where ever I go.
I carry them with me in the sun and snow.
In the spring and fall, they follow me around,
And even when I can’t be found.
I want them here all written down.

So I must write as fast as I can
With great care so people will understand.
For now I will carry on.

But when I must say so long
To those that I hold dear,
“All These Poems” will be right here.