Poets' Practice Pad

Jeeze, I feel kinda like a latter day archaeologist of ancient relics, or an anthropologist of literary antiquity wandering through these archives and bumping into posts, 3, 5, 7 and 10 years gone...like bedposts, roller skates and bed pans on a dark and moody midnight ramble.
Where did everybody go? Like reading tombstones in a Celtic graveyard.
And there I was about to wax poetic off the top of my head, even - but it might maybe feel a little too much like talking to myself.

Captain Midnight
Just let me laugh when it's funny
and when it's sad, let me cry