'' Writers Block '' Poem by Bri Mar

Some critics can be so unkind,
To the facts sometimes they're blind,
What goes on within that mind?
Why don't you take stock?

An explanation's not much to ask,
But you won't let me take you to task,
Why do you hide behind a mask?
You should be in the dock.

It really is a coward's way out,
No it's not I hear you shout,
It is, so let there be no doubt,
It's my principles you mock.

Have the decency to tell me why,
Regardless I'm sure I won't die,
Doesn't common decency to you apply?
I'm more than willing to talk.

What in the content made you terse?
Your manic response did you rehearse,
No one forced you to read my verse,
Yet to it you did flock.

As for making money you're out of luck,
I doubt if you'll ever break your duck,
In a sad existence you seem stuck,
So I think you should take a walk.

I'd say it's to arrogance you are leaning,
On freedom of speech you are intervening,
To the poets dilemma there's now a new meaning,
You've invented,

‘' Writers Block ‘'