I love the smell of NaPo in the morning

 
We’re poeting for all we’re worth!
Every night new words we birth;
big words, small words, thick and thin,
fitting all the syllables in.
Words we choose for sake of rhyme,
words that thunder, whisper, chime -
whatever it takes to make the point
(sometimes made-up words we floint).
Most times, I write just like I talk.
That’s why it often feels so awk-
-ward if I get accolades;
I feel my poems need upgrades!
Perhaps some day they’ll get repaired…
not now! New words must be prepared.
For vict’ry’s near if we heed the warning;
it smells like NaPo in the morning.