I have yet to write my greatest work
Pondering and postulating, in words diverse
Each poem ‘till then a mere rehearse
Toward the work of greatest verse

Honing my skills, I whittle and whittle
Each word cutting precise emotion
Cunning and comfy the context at battle
Yet narrow minded in its devotion

Confound and compound, lingual in texture
Twisting and turning, cerebral in gist
Latitudinal waving, shaking the structure
Laughing, crying, pounding fist

A secret meaning unread is missed
For in the text a message exists

And that!

Is the greatest poem ever written

Marcus McKinley

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-work-in-progress-4/