In National Poetry Month,
I’ll have written 100 rhymes.
And I’ll have thought about you
at least one thousand times.

Around April 1st I was a fool:
Insecure, self-conscious, and whiney.
And when you read my words aloud
it was all you could do to remind me

that I shouldn’t beg, nor complain, nor whine;
refrain from all those Eeyorian traits.
So I did as you suggested, and became confident.
I act as I feel: first rate.

It hasn’t changed my ability to see you,
but at least I’m doing what I need to.