Dear Critic, please have reason,
To compare my work to nursery rhymes,
That’s poetic treason,
So be reasonable when your pen spits its venom,
For my pen bites back too, a thought to remember.
I write because it gives me freedom,
A chance to share a thought,
Oh, so I bore you, well that’s okay.
Now I’ll just write a poem every day,
So like a snake you can hiss,
With the pen you’re a devil,
But I’m a saint,
Then again who am I too judge,
It’s your job to hate,
In my own way I write about the world,
Whilst you’re stuck in your chair,
So just bear in mind next time, I really don’t care,
Try to read what I have to share,
Don’t look past my poetry without a care,
Dear Wannabe Poet, isn’t life unfair?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.