There Was A Bald Fella Called Nick

There was a bald fella called Nick
Who was fond of the odd limerick
But to write a whole blog
Would be quite a slog
And make cogs in his brain whirr and click.

Still, determined was he to compile
An entire blog in this style
With plenty of rhyme
(But from time to time
To get it to scan was a trial).

See, his thinking's not normally poetic
For his mind is just far too erratic,
Used to flitting away,
Not sure what it will say,
On one subject, it just will not stick.

For it's full of all manner of things
Like a box full of papers and strings.
Comics, films and old books
Fill the crannies and nooks.
There's so much stuffed in there that it stings

But it's good to try out something new;
To see what the old brain will do,
But sadly, my friend,
We have come to the end,
Although I'm not quite sure this last line rhymes or scans properly...