Promised to myself,

That I would keep.

Some poems back, Incase 

I forgot how to write.

After falling into

a deep sleep.

When I read others,

As well as mine.

Some make me laugh,

Others make me cry.

Or maybe today's the day,

My macular takes hold.

Not being able to see 

what others write;

I'd find that perfectly droll.

Don't want to squander life, 

Or be like the three musketeers.

Not when I can live amongst,

So many of my friendly poeteers.

Be warned my poetbay friends,

As long as there's life

In these tired bones,

I'll keep on writing till the end.