My First Poem

I sit, one December day,
writing what might be something great.

I write with meaning,
I write with haste,
I write much about nothing,
for thats all that is.

A poor attempt at writing.
But please don't start biting.

Cause I'm but an amateur
A beginner at that.

And if this nice poem doesn't quench your thirst,
Then you need not worry, for it is only my first.