The "Apology"

This was a panic poem that I wrote for Hill Abbey. It is not very good. In fact, it is very bad, but I figured I would post it anyway for your laughing pleasure. Enjoy.

"How shall I be apologize now,
When I'd rather die by the vow.
What was it I didn't bring home;
Beautiful language wrote in a poem.

"Wes, forgive me. I plead with you,
To let the incompetence try again.
But sooth I think, I'll swindle you,
Having me write is terribly vain.

"Caleb, I slander your person with so much pride,
But to call you effeminate I have certainly lied.
Robert, I regret to trample over your words,
Your voice is so sweet like chirping birds.

"Molly, how could I criticize the lyric you wrote,
And justify this very one; a miserable moke.
And Joy, to be sorry I don't think I needs must be,
I can't recall being so mean. I hope that you agree."

I'll never be such a man, for arrogance made me far too cool.
What I do as a gentleman, make contracts free, being not a fool.

By Evan Gunn Wilson