After Words Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

Well, there they are.
Observe the best I've done.
What's coin?
What's slug?
What's new?
What's out of style?
Some lines just came,
while others were a trial.
Some ditties were a pain,
laments were fun.
A few dear friends and mentors
gave support.
When logic left,
I put my trust in sound
and chance and form.
I doubt I'll be around
To hear my verdict read
in fashion's court.
Which lines delight,
instruct
or bore,
offend?
Now all are poets.
No one pays for verse.
Who hasn't found
their passion is a curse?
Each reader writes a poem
from what I've penned.
I hope there's something here
that you can use.
If you're not pleased, my friend,
please blame my muse.