Critical Review Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

Critical Review



No rhyme, no rhythm
call it what you will; it
says nothing and poorly,
you clearly have no skill.
You’re a child’s drawing
seeking approval
to the point of disease;
despite all the re-writes
it's still not going to please.
Nothing you can do
will ever make it float;
bottomed out on critic’s seas
you're just another sunken boat.

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