Shel Silverstein could make me smile,

On a good day or one bad.

Just not reading his poems for a while,

Would make me close to mad.

Judith Viorst could have me smirk,

After reading an absurd verse.

Knowing it was part of her quirk,

I knew it couldn't get worse.

Now lymerics are all I love,

And rhyme is all I seek.

I could never now dispose of,

This artform that makes my day less bleak.

Even when my heart has hurt,

And my eyes were filled with tears,

I know I'm able to revert,

And face all of my fears.

Because if that boy that I've named Jake,

In "Where the Sidewalk Ends",

Can come to terms with death by snake,

Than I can do so with myself -- or at least pretend.