Why?

Why am I here,
This pain I shall smear,
Holy shit I need a beer.

How long must I tear,
To me you veer,
Before you appear.

It happens every leap year,
This is it, this is the preimere,
Get ready, get on your worm gear.

Its this time of year,
I always seem to overhear,
That crystal clear marketeer.

Sense this does not make, laughter it does create.

Ian Robert Potapoff