I'm so subpar at this fine art.
Blowing it out like a great flatulent fart.
I have no talent you know that it's true.
You said it yourself well what can I do.
Subpar but I need this little release.
I'll keep on writing because I'm full of disease.
My talent is weak and my prose is gross.
I'll continue it now subpar glamour and all.
Michael McParland's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Sub Par by Michael McParland )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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