Just Another Poem

Aren't I the bright one?
I bit off my pen top
Ink all over my mouth
My hands and sheets

Why do I write in bed?
I know better now
But I'll just grab another pen
And keep writing what comes out

This poem's unorganized
Improper and not fun
If you were smart
You'd stop reading now

But if you are wise
You'd ponder my thoughts
Hold my hand
And walk with me

I'd explain my reasons
Display my life
Hold you close
And walk with great strides

This poem keeps going on
Even though I wish it over
I just keep writing
What the Hell?
I'm gonna go pick clovers.