Approaching Fifty-Poem Batch

I think this poem is number forty-six, but I have miscounted several times, and like Tom Sawyer's aunt, I'm about to give up the ghost of a chance at counting the correct number.

Many-Featureds, Many-Featureds

Oh, cool are the many-featured creatures,

but cruel are the unaccepting ones,

and futile the antiquated features

beneath the many myriad, secret suns.

These poems that started out an empty batch

now strive for fifty as their final goal,

and short excessive effort, but good catch,

might reach that sparkling effervescent role.

Many of these poems are ridiculous, I realize (and this one's an example), but I'm having fun with the rhymes and images - or ought I say the rhyme and imagery.