It's all 'Loo's fault

Well, not so long ago I felt I could not
write po'try all that well.  A poet?  Ha!
I felt that every time I wrote, it'd splot
All o'er the floor.  Was I a poet?  Nah.

But yes, I 'member all that changed quite quick
a fateful April day a year ago:
I claimed my poetaster state.  Then, "Nix
that thought, to shun won't fix it, no."

T'was 'Loo, ah yes, a friendly Protag gent
who prodded e'er so gently.  Impish me
I thought I knew the end result, and meant
to take his words and use them as a challenge, see?

Long story short, three weeks I spent with poems,
and, lo-behold, they don't stink.  'Loo, I owe'm

... for that.

Seriously, if it wasn't for Eloosive's prod and my occasionally impish nature I don't think I would've come to the realization that I am indeed capable of coming out of my poetaster shell.

The End

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