I know what you, you and you know…

shuffle it again, and some seeds I sow.

In thought I cough, and splash more ink,

for I know what you, you and you think.

Sometimes I seek to flatter beauty,

and love seems nothing but fun-rhymed duty,

altering the words I do, and edit many times,

make fun of others in satirical lines.

Aged and bald is my hoary head,

tossing in glory I lie on my bed.

Learned and respectable, you all accept me,

but lunatic with age I am becoming you see.

Hard I try not to fall a prey

but grey cells deplete,

it is not 

in my say.

What you, you and you know, 

now

I just cannot say.

And you wonder –

Did wisdom really walk your way?