I’ve been told I shouldn’t like my own posts.
This does sound like the right thing not to do —
Since one assumes I liked it in the first place
If I inflicted it on all of you

But that’s not strictly true. I find, rereading
I don’t agree with much of what I say;
But when I write, I let thoughts wander freely
And save critiquing for another day

To me then, what’s remarkable is not that
I’ve clicked on “like” for some stray word or mote;
But that, with fifteen hundred posts, I have not
Liked much of anything of what I wrote

But yet, I write: for it is my obsession.
I seek to justify why I am here —
But find, too often, all my words seem empty
The futile capering of
A puppeteer

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