You should, you know, even if you are determined to be its sole reader. To me, it’s exactly like asking. “Why should you brush your teeth?” Well? Should you? What if you shun thoughts of other people examining and assessing your teeth? Right. Brush them anyway. It’ll be good for you and you will enjoy the difference. Write a poem for yourself, then. It will be cleansing to any writing you’re cutting your teeth on right now. Try a mindless ditty akin to HEY DIDDLE, DIDDLE. Who knows what that’s about? When’s the last time you shouted “Hey!” To your neighborhood Diddle Diddle?” Or, maybe your mind’s depths are of a greater measure. How about a life-threatening drama or history lesson completely obscured from view yet there for all to see, one akin to GOOSEY GOOSEY GANDER.
Goosey goosey gander,
Wherefore dost thou wander?
Upstairs and downstairs
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who wouldn't say his prayers,
So I took him by his left leg
And threw him down the stairs.
This is from the POV of Henry VIII’s religious soldier/policemen. They wore loose fitting gaudy colored uniforms. Those ganders were goosey indeed. Their prey, a Catholic priest, hid in a priest hole in a venue quite out of bounds for priests, soldiers or males of any make or model, a lady’s chamber. The poem tells of the sacrilegious goings-on of predator and prey. When found, the priest “wouldn’t say his prayers,” i.e. would not redirect his loyalty from Roman Catholicism to Henry’s Church of England. The rest is history. Then, for the really ambitious, you might try the language use/abuse akin to MAIRZY DOATS:
Mares eat oats
And does eat oats
And little lambs eat ivy.
A kid’ll eat ivy too;
Wouldn’t you.
This one allows attribution. Milton Drake, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston conspired on that ditty in 1943.
Even if you were to fail in your effort to produce a product that satisfies you, you cannot evade the fruit of the process. I cited three extraordinary products. I kind of wish I didn’t have to. The finery distracts from my point. My point is that the product came from a process of writing. It was a remote process of cleaning and more cleaning of each fore-chosen product: zaniness, mystery/history, language acrobatics. I say, all writers should periodically clean/brush a few small bits of writing for no other reason than because you know how. You’ll enjoy the hygiene you'll render, even if the teeth are never displayed except behind closed doors, in the bathroom mirror.